


Carry The World With You

by Storystuff



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Depressive Thoughts, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Idk if this will contain smut yet but I'm tagging mature just in case, M/M, Recovery, Romance, Some domestic fluff to come I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2019-09-05 22:39:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16819852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storystuff/pseuds/Storystuff
Summary: The Precursors are gone but Newt is still here. And so is Hermann. A sequel to Too Long Apart To Let You Go.





	1. No Place

Hermann’s voice was the first thing Newt heard when he woke. That had been true of every day of his life since the Precursors had had him, from the first day he’d broken free, to all the days after. Even at Shao Industries; the one voice he’d heard for the briefest of moments had been Hermann’s.

He had just never sounded this despondent.

“So typical of you to do this now that they’re… if you weren’t so reckless then we wouldn’t be here,” Newt could hear him saying. He couldn’t see his face, opening his eyes felt like too much of a battle, but he could tell that there was no bite to the words, just empty sadness. Newt couldn’t remember what recklessness he was being berated for, but whatever it was, Hermann was probably right. He’d been right a lot more than Newt ever gave him credit for and Newt was reckless, he knew that much.

Hermann’s words stumbled to a stop as Newt’s heart monitor began to climb.

“Newton? Newton, are you-” There was a clatter of chair legs on the floor and then the ever familiar clack of Hermann’s cane. He said something, loud enough to be heard but too far for Newt to comprehend it, and then suddenly he was back, bony hand on Newt’s right arm.

“Newton, are you awake?”

Newt tried to grumble a yes but he could barely move, still trying to crack his eyes open. When he finally, _finally,_ succeeded, there were already nurses at his side, poking and prodding. They were momentarily just blue blurs in his vision, like bubbles of Kaiju blue, before they focused and became human. He grunted, his hand refusing to move on cue to waft them away, but Hermann did it instead, closing in around him like a protective wing.

“Newton?”

Newt swallowed. Hermann’s face was above his and he looked pale and sleepless, bags under his eyes and his hair stuck out at the crown. It only then hit Newt that he was back in the infirmary and he thought, for one petrifying second, that everything had been a dream. That the Precursors had played the cruellest possible trick on him and he was going to relive the same wonderful fantasy of being a person again and again while they did terrible things in his body. He rooted around in his brain, his expansive, numb brain, and felt nothing. No trace of them. Not even an itch in the back of his mind. Just cold, emptiness where thoughts were beginning to awake in the space of sleep.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” was what he intended to say. Instead it came out garbled and dry, and he coughed painfully. Hermann hummed his concern, pressing his hands on Newt’s shoulders when he tried to wriggle upright.

“Stop it, you’ll hurt yourself,” he chided. Newt frowned. He didn’t remember how he got here. Was he hurt? He tried to take stock of his body, mentally checking every limb and sensation, trying to pan for nuggets of pain in the sludgy feeling pumping around his veins. He had a dull throbbing beginning to pinch at his head, but nothing else.

“I’m fine, Hermann,” he said. Hermann scowled, his expression familiar and scolding, the air breezing over suddenly. Even the nurses, who were fussing at the lines attached to Newt’s left arm and scribbling on charts, seemed to edge backward.

“You are not _fine_ , Newton,” Hermann snapped, “You were out for three straight days, you had blood on your brain. Do you have any idea how bad that could have been?”

“Um… yeah, biologist remember?”

“You almost died,” Hermann scowled. There was heat in that. A sliver of hatred for whatever sleeplessness Hermann had endured, a furious hot bubble of anger… for what, Newt couldn’t fathom. “The Precursors almost took you with them. They were still linked to you in some way, I suppose. The strain almost…”

He trailed off. Newt blinked owlishly. He remembered LOCCENT as if recalling a nightmare, but he didn’t remember passing out. Didn’t remember feeling any pain, either, but he was knew enough to know what the collected deaths of a shared hive mind might do to a person who was strapped into their brain-space. He shuddered.

“The Precursors?” he breathed. A beat of agonising, earth-shattering fear before Hermann spoke.

“Gone. The sonic waves worked, albeit at the last minute. It shook apart all of the Jaegers we had down there, and some of them up here didn’t make it either, but, they’re gone for good.”

Gone.

Newt felt sick. He was suddenly empty, suddenly free of them, suddenly thrust into whatever world he used to live in. The axe had been swung, had thudded into something but it wasn’t his neck. He swallowed his nausea down hard, conscious of the developing headache that would spike with any sharp movements. He could already imagine their screaming in his dreams, the tendrils of thought that they’d leave shredded in their wake, the feeling of a hundred deaths piling one on top of the other in his mind. 

“Are you alright?” Hermann asked. There was no point in making a joke about his physical state, they both knew that wasn’t what he was asking. Newt tried to answer but his throat only produce a choked gasping sound. Nodding his head would be an even worse lie, hurting his head for the trouble it would take him. Shaking it was even worse, so he stayed still, paralysed.

Hermann just hummed like he understood and sat back, perching on the edge of the bed as Newt found himself crowded with nurses, a light shining in his eyes. Someone warned him about a pinch as his IV cable was removed and then re-secured, but he didn’t really feel it. He just kept his eyes on Hermann, clinging for dear life to his old reality, his new reality and the swell of too much, too soon.

“The Precursors are gone, the Breach was successfully closed. As for the Kaiju, there’s no telling how they’re faring without their masters, but… I imagine they’ll do just fine,” Hermann said. His voice was incredibly soft and soothing, his eyes cradling Newt’s gaze. “They’ll do just fine,” Hermann promised.

Newt nodded jerkily and he felt a hot streak of tears slide down his cheeks, trying to hold in the full power of sobs that he longed to shake him apart. Shock set in quickly and almost warmly, settling into his bones like an old friend and his shoulders hitched as he breathed in a staccato rhythm.

“It’s all over Newton, it’s going to be alright,” Hermann shushed and then Newt was sinking forward, pressing his forehead into Hermann’s soft cardigan and letting his tears soak into the fabric. Hermann’s hand immediately came up to rest on his shoulder, gentling and secure. He kept mumbling things in Newt’s ear, little platitudes and there was something in there about worrying, about missing him, about waiting for three days and not knowing if… Newt shut all of it out just to let the sound wash over him, drowning out the beep of the heart monitor and the mumble of the nurses and the breaths he could barely fathom he was taking.

Something told him to pull back; maybe the fact that Hermann had already done too much and now here Newt was, crying onto his clothes and embarrassing him, but Hermann just shushed him when he squirmed.

“It’s alright, everything is alright.”

“It’s, I’m not – I’m sorry,” Newt whined.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Hermann said.

“I ruined, I’m ruining-” He desperately didn’t want to continue the sentence his tongue had started without him, that awful feeling of speaking without his permission, so he closed down on it and cut himself off short. Hermann didn’t need to hear that right now. He didn’t need to be reminded of how much Newt was leaning on him, in all senses of the words.

“I’m ruining your grandad sweater, dude,” is how he finished instead and Hermann offered a tired laugh in response.

“You can’t comment on my fashion choices when you’re wearing that,” Hermann said and Newt looked down as he pulled back, realising for the first time that he was in nothing but a hospital gown. He grumbled, good natured but faux offended.

“Not a rockstar look, Herm,” he said and Hermann shrugged in a ‘maybe not’ kind of way. _Not my clothes_ , Newt thought, _not my bed_. No Precursors, no job, no freedom… nothing but a shared history that wasn’t even entirely his own and the pregnant swell of a migraine in his head. He looked at Hermann and thought about the future that wasn’t his either. How much of it relied on Hermann? How much depended on Hermann staying when staying would lose him his freedom too, and his job, his chances at a normal life?

Newt bared his teeth in what he hoped was a smile as Hermann fretted at the nurses. He hoped it didn’t look as threatening as it felt.

For the first time ever, with such self-loathing that it hurt, he wished his life wasn’t his own just one more time. Just enough to dull the dread in his chest, enough to stop the sickly fear of that opened infirmary door which he’d soon be tossed through, into… nothingness. No place. The thought was enough to make him want to reopen the Breach just to throw himself inside it and never come back.

He started when Hermann placed his hand back on his shoulder.

“Newton?” he asked, his face a frown. Newt tightened his grin, feeling it crack at the corners.

“Yep,” he said, “Yep, sorry. Still here. Not going anywhere.”

_Not going anywhere._

He wished that wasn’t as true as it was. And, for one selfish instant, he looked at Hermann and wished he could say the same for him.


	2. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went to London for an event this weekend and brought my laptop… but forgot my charger like an idiot??? But I’m home now! Thanks for your patience ya’ll :) Reviews and con-crit greatly appreciated!
> 
> Adding a tag for depressive thoughts as Newt definitely experiences these in this chapter. Sudden loss of direction in life, on top of everything else, can do that. I think these are the thoughts that remained after Too Long Apart which prevented their relationship and need to be worked through in order for Newt to progress. I took inspiration from my own experiences on that angle but, of course, everyone experiences things differently, and I thought a tag might be necessary.

Newt wasn’t ready for the noise that came on the second day. The tests and the scans had all been suspiciously gentle, like the doctors were worried they’d break him, but with Hermann glaring holes into nurse’s backs as they moved, Newt wasn’t surprised.

“Herm, seriously, dude, you’re scaring everyone,” Newt complained. He was secretly glad; it made a change from the Shatterdome’s usual policy regarding ex-enemies of the world. Hermann merely harrumphed and continued to glare at anyone who so much as pricked Newt with a needle.

The arrival of the Rangers on day two was also the arrival of way, way too much… _everything._ Newt shrank back at the scowl Hermann sent their way, sensing the prickle of tension that simmered between them. There was a lot of movement as the nurses moved away, tension crackled in the air and everything suddenly seemed busier with their arrival. 

“Good to see you’re up, man,” Jake said. He patted Newt’s shoulder with a firm hand, garnering another sour look from Hermann.

“No thanks to either of you,” Hermann said.

“I’m sure Dr Geiszler understands that, had we pulled the plug on the operation, we wouldn’t have been able to combat the Precursors,” Nate argued, “It’s not like-”

“That’s not the point!” Hermann snapped.

“Hermann, it’s fine,” Newt said, “Seriously. I’m glad you went ahead with it. It’s – it’s a relief, not having them up here.” He tapped at his head with two fingers, wincing when it pulled at his IV line. He was looking forward to having that out already.

Newt didn’t appreciate the satisfied look on Nate’s face at the gratitude, but he let it slide. They had, after all, just defeated the universe’s biggest evil and all that. Give a guy time to gloat.

“Doc says you’ll be out of here in no time,” Jake grinned. Newt shrugged. He felt about as fine as he did two days ago which, really, wasn’t all that bad. Everything was still a little bleary, his memory coming in fits and starts in the hours around LOCCENT, but everything else was sharper. He remembered his name, and his PhDs, and all of the godawful things he did in the past few years, so he was pretty sure nothing had come loose since the Precursors left the building.

“Yeah, well, takes more than a bleed to dent this genius,” Newt said. He meant it to sound preening, but it came out a little darker than he’d intended and he snapped his mouth closed, shrugging. Nate and Jake exchanged glances as Hermann fumed silently.

“Well, your room’s ready, anyway, when you come out,” Jake said, changing the subject. Hermann bristled at that, tilting his head like an angered cat.

“Pardon?” he said. If there was one thing Newt _definitely_ remembered, it was that tone of voice. He clutched his bed sheets a little closer to him in preparation for the onslaught about to be unleashed in awesome, devastating fury. It was way more entertaining to watch when it wasn’t directed at him.

“Er… Dr Geiszler’s accommodation-”

“We will _not_ be going back to that apartment, I can assure you,” Hermann snapped, voice clipped. Newt’s heart sank. For a moment he’d hoped for the best, but instead, it was the very thing he’d been waiting for since he woke up.

_I will not be continuing to share a room with Dr Geiszler,_ would come next. Or maybe, _Don’t you think Dr Geiszler would be better suited to somewhere else? With better care?_ That was more likely. It would be a good enough excuse for Hermann to make a graceful exit and go back to his life before he became a nurse maid. Newt had the awful image of Hermann sweeping around after him while Newt did, well, whatever an ex-war-criminal-and-world-killer did after the end of the war. It was a pretty depressing image.

“Hermann, if you don’t wanna bunk with me, it’s okay,” Newt said. If Hermann wanted an out, the least Newt could give him was an opening. He’d done enough for him already.

“That is _not_ what I am saying, Newton,” Hermann spat, vehemently pointing a finger at the Rangers, “He is not going back to that foul little room, and neither am I.”

“Herm, it’s okay, you don’t have to-”

“This man has done more for the PPDC, for the world at large, than anyone else on this base!” Hermann said, “He’s given more than his life for this cause and you treat him like, like the enemy! Shoving him in the belly of the Shatterdome like a prisoner, stripping him of his work. If you think for one second that I will let that stand, you’re gravely mistaken.”

Newt’s mouth dropped open. Nobody noticed, all eyes focused on Hermann’s tirade.

“We understand that Newt has been helpful in-” Nate tried to interject.

“Helpful?” Hermann scoffed, and Newt shrank back at the volume, “Newton Geiszler is the reason we are still here, gentleman, or have you already forgotten what he did to get you your coordinates? He’s done more to deserve his life than you dare give him credit for, so don’t you think that he’ll be going back to that tiny little hole in this rat maze for the rest of his life, no sir!” Hermann thudded his cane on the floor, standing. Bad leg or not, there was no doubt in Newt’s mind that Hermann wouldn’t be opposed to a real, physical fight if it came to it. He’d seen him in action before and it was impressive, to say the least. He just never thought he’d be the damsel over which Hermann was willing to fight.

There was a long silence and Newt felt conscious of the heart monitor’s beeping for a long second, terrified it would betray the way his heartbeat fluttered at that thought. Hermann had comforted him before, had told him that he was a good man and that he deserved better, but he was sure that once this was all over, it would end. With the Precursors gone, without the threat of Newt’s total mental collapse, the assurances would stop. His willingness to live with Newt would disappear.

The seeds of doubt were already growing in his head, pre-empting his hope, the nasty voices growing in size. _Why would he mean that?_ They said, _You’re not worth it. You don’t deserve him._

He wanted to deserve it. Wanted to deserve that life. Deserve Herm-

“If you wish to discuss further arrangements, we can do so,” Nate said at last. Hermann’s resolve didn’t falter.

“Larger accommodation, for a start. And I believe that Newt should at least be granted a work assessment.”

“Absolutely not,” Jake said, “I agree, yes, he was helpful this time but the PPDC can’t authorise him to work here, you know that Hermann.”

“Then a work permit for somewhere else. Research, lab work, it doesn’t matter where. You can’t keep him locked away here forever,” Hermann said. Newt wanted to wave and mention the fact that he was, in fact, still here, but Hermann was doing a good enough job of bartering that Newt didn’t want to interrupt in case he messed it up.

_You’re good at messing things up._

He focused hard on Hermann in an effort to block out his own cruel thoughts. He cursed himself; even without the Precursors, he was adept at bullying himself into submission.

Nate looked at Jake, who shrugged. Finding no support there, Nate sighed. “I can arrange the living space, but as for the work assessment… I need to ask around. I can’t promise anything, clearing him for any kind of scientific work is… I mean, it’s not going to be simple.”

“I didn’t say it would be,” Hermann said. He held a hand out for Nate to shake and Newt hid a smirk. Without paper to get it in writing, Hermann went straight for the next best thing. If he wasn’t a scientist already, he’d have made a damn decent lawyer. Nate scowled at the proffered hand and looked like he was about to refuse, but straightened and shook it tensely.

“Fine, you win,” he said dryly. Hermann smiled primly. Nate, looking like he’d aged significantly in the past few minutes, shook his head and stalked out of the room. Jake followed, grinning. With an easy turn, he looked back at Hermann and Newt before he reached the door and, with a wink, sent congratulatory finger guns in their direction before spinning out of the door. Newt half-heartedly returned one, scowling at the IV line he kept forgetting.

Hermann busied himself with rearranging his chair like nothing had happened as Newt gaped at him. When Hermann sat and looked back at him, he seemed surprised to see Newt staring at him.

“What?” he said.

“You just – I mean… Dude, you totally decimated him. For me.”

“I’m not about to let them treat you like a common criminal.”

“Because I’m an uncommon criminal?” Newt countered.

“No, you’re a man who still has potential, which has been proven time and time again,” Hermann said. At Newt’s disbelieving look, he rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Do you want us to get better accommodation or not?”

_Us._ The little word that Newt had been dreading. The decision that made him feel queasy every time he thought about it.

His first thought was selfish. _I want to go wherever you’re going,_ was the first thing he thought. It had been the first thought he’d had since their days of writing letters. He had sat on his bed and written old-school, pen-written letters because Hermann was old-fashioned like that and he’d think _I want to be where you are._ It was an instinct by now. And yet, the logical voice in Newt’s head scolded him a moment later. _He_ _wants you to say no,_ it said _._ Right now, Hermann should be in four places at once, giving talks at universities and hating interviews on talk shows about how he single-handedly scienced the pants off the Precursors for good. And yet, he was here instead, where no-one even knew who he was or what a rock star he was. Newt opened his mouth, then closed it, swallowing down the first selfish thought that almost came out.

“Newton?” Hermann asked. Newt wished he wouldn’t look at him like that; expectant and apprehensive. He wished he’d just make it easy for Newt, instead of making him be the one to do this. Either Hermann really hated being the bad guy, or he expected more of Newt than Newt knew.

“I… I don’t…” Newt stammered. _Maybe he really means it?_ The hopeful voice in his heart sounded more like him and less like the cruel, cold, echoing voice in his head but it was much, much quieter. The incessant arguing in his head was exhausting already. _Maybe you’re not that bad – he did just argue with the Rangers for you._

The counter argument hit him like a slap in the face: _Have you already forgotten what you did? Who you are? Did their lives mean so little?_

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Newt said. Hermann’s face faltered, like Newt had said something unexpected, but the expression was gone in moments and Hermann smoothed it into a neutral gaze.

“The doctors said that you’re able to leave-”

“I know, it’s not that,” Newt said, “I don’t… I think… I don’t know.” God, was he going to cry _again_? His eyes felt uncomfortably hot. _Pathetic._ The thought was so loud that if the Precursor’s weren’t gone, he’d already be starting to panic. As it stood, he wasn’t sure what to do when the only monster in his head was him.

Hermann frowned, folding his hands on Newt’s bed sheets. Newt picked at a stray thread near them, feeling the warmth from Hermann’s body on his fingertips when they got close.

“I understand that you’ve not had a lot of choices, even in the past few months, but you _do_ have choices now, Newton. You can choose how you wish to spend the rest of your life. And you don’t have to choose it all at once, you can change your mind. Nothing is set in stone, Newton.”

The clamouring voices in Newt’s head quieted a little. He hadn’t even realised how anxious the idea of choice made him. The thought of having an entire life before him, dictated by decisions, gave him chills. It all seemed so messy. He’d never realised before the Precursors how tricky it was to pick between two simple things. There were so many more factors involved than he remembered. Hermann. The PPDC. Himself. Happiness. What he really deserved.

“If it makes it easier, the apartment will still need packing up. Not that it will take long but… how about you stay for a night in whichever new place they give us, to get a feel for it, and, well, I suppose you can make your mind up then?” Hermann said. He seemed put out, and Newt tried to push down the guilt that came with that. He was causing trouble, again, putting Hermann out without really meaning to.

“Sure,” he said, “Yeah. That’s – that’s fine.” He had no idea if it was fine but, from the small smile Hermann gave him, it was at least a step in the right direction.

* * *

Hermann felt uneasy as he helped Newt back to the apartment. To say he hadn’t been a little bit put out by Newt’s reluctance to cohabitate again would be a lie; their easy routine had been working so well that Hermann saw no reason to change. He liked having Newt around. He enjoyed his company, him being around after so long apart was comforting. He had thought that Newt shared the same opinion, but he’d been hesitant to agree to share an apartment again.

Hermann allowed that to pass without comment. Newton hadn’t had the chance to make his own decisions in a long, long time. It was only natural that he’d wish to have some space to himself, to at least make his own choices and attain the freedom that he deserved. That didn’t stop the disappointed creases that crumpled Hermann’s face when apprehension crept into Newton’s voice. He couldn’t begin to guess what thoughts were going through his head, but the conflict was obvious, and Hermann had tried his best to present space for it. He'd tried to seem impartial and nonchalant, when all the while he was desperate to rest his forehead against Newton’s and drill into his head that their minds were too close to be far apart. They were too much one person to be two bodies.

“Home sweet home,” Hermann said dryly as he opened the door to their old rooms. Hermann had barely been back since LOCCENT, only stopping by quickly to grab a set of clothes for himself and Newt. His back was still protesting sleeping in the uncomfortable infirmary cot he’d been offered, and sitting on that awful plastic chair beside Newt’s bed. He was most certainly going to place a complaint about medical comfort at the next opportunity.

The living room was cold and dark, lacking the life it had taken on in their time together. Hermann flicked on the light switch, putting his hand into his pocket to warm it in the chilly, still air.

“Huh,” Newt said.

“What?”

“Thought I’d left the stove on,” Newt deadpanned. Hermann blinked and then burst out laughing at the joke. Newt’s grin grew into a chuckle too and he hunched his shoulders, curling around himself and shaking with silent giggles. Adrenaline seeped out of Hermann’s body as he laughed, the nervous tension dissipating as the laughter soaked into the walls, warming the space with a light only they could see.

“You – you did,” Hermann joked, “I had to turn it off, I thought the last thing we needed was for the PPDC to burn down while we were off winning the war!” Newt’s laughter became audible at that and his face looked so much younger in a smile. It caught Hermann off guard, the pride of creating such a splendid sight swelling in his chest. Wonderment took Newt’s eyes and his smile became softer.

“We won,” he breathed.

“Yes. We did.”

“I…” Newt didn’t continue, but the silence wasn’t the same sad gap of words that had filled the infirmary. He simply didn’t seem able to put the thought into words. It reminded Hermann sometimes of the way Newt wrote, the papers he’d produced during the war where his sentences rambled and rambled for pages until, finally, on the last page, he’d find what he’d been trying to say all along and neatly summarised the entire topic in a few words. Newt’s mind worked so fast, in such an intricate medley of ways, that it needed to open every door before stepping through. It was as exhausting as it was fascinating.

“I’m free,” Newt said simply. His voice shook part way between relief and sheer terror.

“Yes, you are.”

Newt nodded. He avoided Hermann’s eyes, pulling at the fabric on the faded band t-shirt that Hermann had brought for him. He nodded again, like a child who was processing an idea too big to grasp. Without meeting Hermann’s eye, he scurried past him, dipping like he was physically trying to avoid his eye line, and made straight for the bedroom.

Hermann sighed and followed at a slow lurch. Progress – slow, but sure. Newton was so much better now than he’d been when they’d first arrived in these rooms, skittish and tearful at every step, but his recovery was unexpected and bumpy. Hermann hadn’t stuck with Newton because he was simple, however. There was no scientific curiosity in his interest, but the conundrum that was Newton Geiszler fascinated Hermann endlessly because he was the only person on the planet that had ever gripped Hermann’s attention quite so much. Even if none of this had happened, even if Newton had, for some ungodly reason, given up science forever and never made another baffling discovery, he would still be the most interesting person Hermann knew. And that was something Hermann had never said about anyone.

They packed up their meager belongings in a short time, making quick work of their respective drawers of clothes and the few books and items that Hermann had kept with him. Newt had no such mementos, having lost them to the apartment at Shao Industries, but if he was jealous of Hermann’s home comforts, he didn’t show it. In fact, he seemed impatient to leave, hopping from foot to foot gently in the doorway as Hermann closed his suitcase. Newt scooted forward, putting his own bag on top of the case and taking it from Hermann.

“I can manage,” Hermann argued, scowling.

“I know you can, you’re on door holding duty,” Newt said, nodding towards the door. Hermann raised a brow when Newt opened it himself, but didn’t complain. Sitting in that blasted hospital chair had definitely given his back some complaints and he wasn’t too upset with Newt for jumping in to take the, albeit small, luggage from him.

They opened the front door, Hermann taking one last look at the life they were to leave behind them. It was small, somewhat safe, but even as Hermann looked at it now with a scientific degree of nostalgia, it was too confined, too restrictive for life to bloom. A bell jar for wild flowers.

The Dome wasn’t much bigger, all things considered, but it was a start and, looking as Newton bounced from toe to toe, it was more than enough. Whatever was going through Newton’s mind at the thought of the rest of their lives being finally theirs, or maybe just his, or whatever it was that he wanted, was hidden from sight. Even the tug of the Drift didn’t spill any secrets, only a numb feeling of confusion, like he’d filled a cup with water and returned to find it empty.

“Where to now?” Newt asked. Hermann closed the door to their past and locked it.

“I suppose,” he said, “The great unknown awaits.”


	3. Stating the Obvious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, given how much I’m having to travel up and down the country this season, I think Mondays will be much easier for me to post on. Mostly just a case of me not having to lug my laptop around all weekend! I don’t think I have many people reading this fic anyways but if there is, are Mondays alright?

In the space between the post-war packing-up of the Dome and all of its personnel finally leaving their temporary home, Hermann had heard about the rooms they’d installed in the upper levels, somewhere on the opposite side of the Jaeger yard to LOCCENT and far enough from the runways that they offered some semblance of peace. Hermann had been offered one himself while he was dismantling the lab. 

If he hadn’t been so sure that he would go with Newt, to wherever that may be, he would have taken one. As it was, it was another few years before he even remembered that they existed and, by that time, he’d resigned himself to a small room, small enough for just him and the silence.

The one they’d been given now was large, twice the size of their original rooms and there was, to Hermann’s surprise, a window in the living room. It was large enough that he imagined it had once been a strategic point, maybe somewhere that Stacker Pentecost himself had looked out across the ocean on this side of the Dome. More likely than not, Hermann knew from a technical perspective, it was just once a hole which had been used to crane up supplies. By the time it came to be closed, nobody would have very much cared if it was concrete or reinforced glass – it would all be the same to a Kaiju. When peace arrived, the window was demoted to a view of the broiling waves and the cobalt sky.

Newt looked out of the window for a long, long time when they arrived. Hermann didn’t know if that was good or not, but Newt looked wistful when he turned back to survey the room. It was still a cold, sparse living area, but whoever had occupied it during the closing of the Shatterdome had left a few home comforts. An old armchair which looked comfortable enough, a swath of notes on a crate converted into a coffee table that certainly appeared to be the work of a Jaeger pilot, a coffee maker that still miraculously worked in the kitchen. The kitchen, too, to Hermann’s great relief, was slightly better equipped than their last one.

“Well, it’s not exactly a home from home,” Hermann said, “But it’s better than nothing.” He was already thinking of the next move they’d make, when they finally got to leave the claustrophobic walls of the Dome. Wherever Newt’s job was, or his own job, wherever Newt wanted to go. Anywhere, it didn’t matter.

“It’s perfect,” Newt said. He cleared his throat, embarrassed at the plainness of his tone. “I mean, hell of a view, right?”

“I think we have the only room in the entire Shatterdome that has even a hint of sunlight. Must have earned it,” Hermann said. Newt shrugged at that, making a face. He wandered around, poking his head into the two bedrooms.

“Dibs on the big one,” he said. Hermann raised his eyebrow. They both knew well enough that Newt still found it hard to sleep alone, his nightmares waking him even in the infirmary. Newt didn’t meet Hermann’s eye and he could see a glimmer of embarrassment in his downcast gaze. 

“Well, guy can dream,” Newt said. Hermann tried not to let that sting. It was perfectly natural for two grown men to sleep in separate rooms. He had become so accustomed to Newt’s presence, his numerous anime shirts and tattered shorts, the shifts of springs and duvet in the night, that absence suddenly seemed abnormal. The Drift felt stronger when Newt was closer, even if that was only the placebo effect. 

This was just how it was now. Newton had control over his life, and Hermann knew that he had to respect that more than ever. How they would reconcile their life post-war, post-Precursors, post…everything, Hermann didn’t know, but they would have to do it. Now that the danger and the bondage of war was gone, the violence had to be reconciled with whatever laid ahead of them; their new lives. Together or apart.

“You can sleep wherever you please,” was the response Hermann settled on. He did, however, make a point to smile when Newton eventually unpacked his clothes into Hermann’s room.

* * *

Newt’s leg bounced up and down with every syllable that came rushing out of his mouth. He’d started talking before he’d even entered Emma’s office, the psychiatrist giving him an appraising look as he bounded over to his usual chair and flopped into it, hands clasped in readiness for the truly _awesome_ story he had to tell. It had been almost two weeks since he’d finally moved out of the infirmary into the new place, which was honestly kind of like the Ritz in comparison, and besides the nightmares and the odd moments of weird, scary blankness that came across his mind sometimes, things were going… kind of good.

“So anyway, in the end, I decided to just go for everything, because it’s a smoothie maker, which is awesome! We didn’t even have a blender in the lab, so this is like, way cool, I had everything. Bananas, ‘cos those are apparently easy to get now; go figure? Pop tarts, which was a mistake. And-”

“Newt, are you alright?” Emma interrupted. Newt’s story skittered to a stop. He didn’t know when he’d got onto the blender in their kitchen from the toilet not working, but he was there now and he wasn’t going to stop.

“What? Yeah, fine, anyway-”

“Newt. Breathe.”

Newt pouted. He _was_ breathing. So yeah, he was a little out of breath but that was from talking.

“I am breathing.”

“And talking about pop tart smoothies. You’re a little…erratic this morning,” Emma said. Newt shrugged. Maybe a little, sure, but it’s not like he had anything else to talk about. There were no Precursors in his head, the Earth was safe and Hermann – Hermann was…

“I’m not erratic, I’m just pumped about my breakfast choices, doc,” Newt said, “I can totally make you one next time.”

Emma chuckled. “I’m good, thank you Newt.”

“Your loss.” He ignored the look she was giving him; the look that said she wanted him to talk about something. Something not smoothie related, something not light and normal. He tried to think about the new soap they had in the bathroom, and not the paperwork he’d been sent about debriefings. Radio shows rather than remembrance services. The view of the ocean, not the view of a battered Tokyo that still haunted his dreams.

“You haven’t mentioned Hermann in a few days,” Emma said suddenly, “Not since we started sessions again.” Newt started. 

“Huh?”

“It’s not unusual for him to be mentioned, but I’ve heard nothing about him for a few days now,” Emma said, “Maybe you’d like to talk about that?”

“I thought you wanted the sessions to be about me?”

“I do,” Emma agreed, “But you’ve been very clear that Hermann is a big part of your life, talking about him is very much like talking about an aspect of your life, and by extension, yourself. You’ve mentioned everything about the new apartment multiple times, but you haven’t mentioned Hermann. Have you two had a falling out?”

Newt’s frown deepened. He stared at the doctor’s bookshelves, reading the titles sideways. Thinking about breakfast and not heartbreak.

“No,” he said eventually, “It’s fine, he’s fine. I just…” He trailed off. He could still see Hermann’s open, imploring expression, that night before LOCCENT. _You make me happy._

“What’s been said between you?” Emma asked. He cursed how perceptive she was sometimes. He wanted to change the subject, talk about the book he’d been reading lately, but the words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“He said that I make him happy.”

“Surely that’s a good thing?” she said. He tried not to flinch, keeping his mouth in a tight line. He opened it to say something, then closed it again. There was a hundred things he could say to that, all of them at least some shade of the truth, but the reality sounded pathetic. Not that Emma hadn’t already seen him at his most pathetic, sobbing and wailing like a child, but this was just plain embarrassing. He shook his head.

“This is a safe space, Newt, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of here. I’m not going to judge any of your answers, they’re just for you to make use of.” As if to prove her point, she put down her notebook, closing it before placing it on the table. Distractedly, Newt wondered if it was closed so he couldn’t see how many times she’d diagnosed him as crazy in one session.

“Because…” he trailed off but she nodded at him, expression warmly neutral. He sighed.

“Because I’m ruining his life,” he said. Humiliation washed over him and he could feel his ears tingling with heat. It sounded even more pathetic out loud than it did in his head, but Emma didn’t react, her face retaining its neutrality. Frustrated, Newt elaborated.

“He’s turned down two awesome jobs already, in two weeks, which I totally knew he’d do. Which means he’s stuck inside with me all day, and I know what he said but he’s just – he doesn’t get to do his life’s work, the stuff he’s _meant_ to do, and… and he just doesn’t realise it yet, he doesn’t get how miserable I’m going to make him-”

“How can you be so sure that he’ll be miserable?” Emma interrupted. He didn’t realise he hadn’t taken a breath while speaking and he felt lightheaded. “Hermann is a grown man, he can make his own decisions,” she pointed out. Newt laughed.

“Yeah, and he _chooses_ to wear those gross sweaters,” he griped, “He’s being a damn martyr. He’s got, I don’t know, probably some kind of guilt or something, or he thinks the PPDC wants him to look after me, you know? He doesn’t realise I’m…”

“You’re what?”

Newt shook his head. He’d given her what she wanted. He wouldn’t give her _that_ too. “He’s going to regret it,” he said instead. Emma hummed, not in understanding or agreement, just a note that she’d heard him. Sometimes Hermann did that, when they were watching TV and Newt was talking and talking. He used to do it in the lab while working on his equations.

“Are you happy?” Emma said. The question was unexpected and, at first, Newt shrugged.

“That’s not the point, I’m talking about Hermann, he’s-”

“I know, but I want to hear if you’re happy,” Emma said.

“And him, apparently,” Newt grouched. Emma smiled, shrugging.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m happy,” Newt said. It wasn’t a lie. He really was happier than he’d been in so, so long. His days were incredibly simple, but they were filled with the little things he’d missed while under the Precursor’s control. Choosing his own meals, reading, working on things that didn’t matter. Hermann. The thought of happiness made his stomach churn. It made him want to think about all the things he shouldn’t be happy about, because no matter how involuntary it was, it made his chest hurt and his muscles feel tight. He thought about all the people who had died, who would never be happy again. Mako. About Hermann, who still woke up nearly every single night when Newt was whimpering and crying in his sleep.

_You don’t deserve to be happy._

The voice he berated himself with still sounded like them, sometimes.

“Newt, you’re allowed to be happy,” Emma said, “We’ve talked about this, remember?” He nodded but it was quick and distracted. They’d talked about it a lot. How his happiness wasn’t linked to other factors, how his life continuing didn’t impact the lives lost. How living was the best way to make amends. It made him sick when he thought too hard about it. Like it was some cruel joke that living, the only thing he had berated himself for doing when captured, was the thing he’d been sentenced to.

“Do you think, maybe, if you told Hermann that you were happy too, he’d want to stay?” she asked, “If you said that this arrangement was something you enjoy, do you think he’d agree to continue it, not out of guilt, but because it is beneficial to him too?”

Newt thought about that. He hadn’t really considered what Hermann would say, if asked. It was just the way things were now. He’d assumed that Hermann would cease their arrangement once the Precursors were gone. He could go back to his science, visit Newt when he wanted and leave when he’d had enough. He’d be a rockstar, without Newt there to tether him. But Hermann hadn’t left. He hadn’t even brought up the idea, instead he’d bargained for them to have a bigger space for the both of them. They’d so far avoided the idea of what happened next.

Maybe this _was_ what happened next. Newt didn’t want to let that hope crawl into his mind, not now. Not when, at any second, it could be torn away from him.

“Why are you afraid of being happy when the situation that makes you happiest, pleases Hermann too? It seems to me that the obvious solution is… well, very obvious,” Emma prompted.

He thought about Hermann’s equations, how they’d been a language that only he and Hermann had understood. None of the Rangers or the pilots who’d wandered into their lab had been able to read them, like secret messages on the wall. How now it really was as simple as 1 + 1.

“It’s never that simple. There’s always… always something,” Newt said quietly.

“There are no Precursors this time, Newt.”

“No, but there’s me.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Emma said gently. Newt nodded, not meeting her eye.

“Talk to Hermann,” she said, “And just ask him what he wants. It would be good for both of you, I think, to have some direction and some definition to your relationship.” Newt scoffed at that.

“You make it sound like we’re dating,” Newt said. The words came out more choked than he really wanted them too and he kept his head dipped away from her eyes. She chuckled, that knowing sound that Newt always felt frustrated by.

“Maybe you’re not dating, but it’s more comfortable for us as people when we can define our interactions with another person.”

“We’re…” Newt paused. Friends seemed way too distant, too cold. Drift partners felt better, but they’d never really Drifted much through choice, only through necessity, and each time had been somewhat of a wonder and a nightmare. “Complicated,” is what came out instead and he kicked himself mentally. It sounded like a cheesy movie and he knew it.

“Which is why definition might be beneficial,” Emma said, “Newt, you are already flatmates, and friends, and colleagues with Hermann. You’ve shared Drifts, you live together… from what you’ve told me, you’ve both spent nights sleeping in the same room, sometimes in the same bed.”

“I have nightmares,” Newt said quietly, but the excuse felt like a betrayal. He slept better when Hermann was in the bed with him, slotted behind him like the part of the mind he felt like he lost in the nightmares. A better half of himself. The tug on his heart when he thought about that space being empty brought tears to his eyes.

“Ask Hermann how he feels, and how he’d like to continue your time together, Newton,” she said, “I think you know that Hermann deserves more credit than you’re willing to give him.”

_He deserves a lot,_ Newt thought, _he deserves to be happy._

_And so do you._

It was amazing how much the kindness still left in him sounded like Hermann. 

“What if he says no?” Newt said, his voice small, “I can’t even think of… I just… Em, I want him to be happy. Like really, honestly happy.”

“And he can decide what makes him happy, Newt, you just have to trust him.”

“I do trust him,” he said, “I – trust him. And-”

The words caught. It was so obvious, so plainly part of himself that it was like it had always been there, since the day he was born.

“And?”

_And I love him._

“I’m going to ask him to stay,” he said instead. He was sure, as certain as if it was in his DNA, that the rest was obvious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the pacing okay? I actually rewrote this chapter when I opened the document because I’m going through post-NaNo blues where I’m feeling kinda crummy about everything I write atm, so please feel free to critique!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!!! I hope you all have an amazing Christmas and you know that I love this fandom, and everyone who reads this, and my warmest, loveliest wishes are with you this season. Ya'll are amazing, and I hope 2019 brings us all happiness and makes the fandom grow even stronger <3
> 
> (for a Christmas surprise, this chapter does contain some fluff! I know, I know, angst is my thing(TM) but I can dabble in the odd fluffy blanket every now and again!)

Hermann reasoned that going behind someone’s back suggested doing something devious. Doing something good for someone, without their knowledge, was defined more as a surprise.

The fact that he was doing work in the apartment while Newton was out at therapy was, maybe, just a little bit, a “behind his back” situation. As soon as Newton left, Hermann pulled out his laptop and began running equations. He could lose himself in the Breach model he’d been drawing up to demonstrate the mechanics of the sonic collapse that closed the inter-dimensional pathway for good. Sometimes Newton came back and Hermann only just snapped out of his mathematical daze in time for him to swap his screen to some innocuous news site, shuffling his screen away from Newt’s sight when he slumped over the back of the sofa and complained about how Emma was the “master of all and knower of everything”.

It wasn’t that Hermann was hiding it. It was just that… well, whenever Hermann spoke about the idea of work, Newt got uncomfortable. So really, writing reports and preparing demonstrations was work best done when Newton was out of the apartment. Whatever anxiety Hermann’s work gave him, Hermann couldn’t fathom, but he was sure that the less he spoke about it, the better.

But when it came to looking at jobs for Newton, Hermann reasoned that it was less underhanded and more of a helpful surprise. It didn’t take him much extra time to look up jobs along the coast in marine research facilities, or to shoot emails to nature conservation centres that were working to rebreed species the Kaiju had half decimated. There was nothing on their application pages about world-ending possession from extra-terrestrial beings so, despite a rather complicated referral from the PPDC and a non-existent and severe letter of termination from Shao Industries, Hermann saw no reason that a now-Precursor-free biologist couldn’t find work in a relevant sector.

Hermann had little success in convincing himself that Newton’s contagious scientific joy wasn’t at fault for Hermann’s secret job search. While the Precursors held Newton’s brain hostage, the spark that he’d always had, like the surface of a matchbook always waiting to be struck, had been dimmed. Hermann had noticed how his attention wavered, his mind flitting away from even the most fascinating of topics. But now, his mind free and open for every curious thought, the fire in his eyes was back. It was almost courageous, the way that Newton loved science. Unlike Hermann, he found no joy in the smooth security of mathematics, the way that one could almost touch the hand of the divine through certainty previously unknown to man. No, Newton found his passion in the completely improbable mix of science and compassion.

Hermann had almost forgot just how much Newton’s passion overwhelmed him until about a week ago, when Hermann had heard Newton crying softly in the living room while Hermann was reading in their bedroom. At first, he considered not going out, to give Newton the space to cry if he needed to, with the option of calling out for him. But the sound was so muffled that Hermann couldn’t ignore the twist in his stomach anymore and he shuffled out into the living room. Newton knew better by now than to hide himself away.

“Newton?” Hermann said softly. He rounded the sofa and stopped. Newt was curled into a ball, blanket drawn around him like a cocoon and, while he was most certainly crying, there was a tiny, wondrous smile on his lips.

“Newton?” Hermann repeated. Newt wormed a hand out from under the sheet and shuffled up to sit back, wiping tears from his cheeks. He grinned sheepishly.

“Oh, er, hey Herm,” he said. It was a familiar, twisty tone of voice that meant only one thing. It surfaced when Newt was _bursting_ to talk. The kind of tone that told Hermann he was in for a long but fascinating lecture on Kaiju lymph nodes, or less interestingly, Korean cartoons.

“Are you alright?” Hermann said warily. Newt nodded at the television. Hermann looked. It was the news channel, not Newton’s favourite by any stretch of the imagination, but there was a poor quality video of what looked to be a black and white ball of fluff wrapped in a towel. It was evidently mobile phone footage from whoever was cooing over the ball. Hermann couldn’t really make out what the bundle was until it squirmed and, suddenly, from under the person’s hand, popped a tiny face.

“Is that a panda?” Hermann gasped. He squinted, tilting his head to see better and found the beady eyes staring back into the camera. He hadn’t seen one of those in… he couldn’t remember how long.

“They lost a whole bunch when the Kaiju came,” Newt said softly. His voice was far away, wistful in thought. “In the wild and in the zoos, and they couldn’t keep the breeding programmes up and…” he trailed off and Hermann watched as a few more tears slid out of Newt’s eyes and he _grinned_. A full, vibrant smile like Hermann had almost forgotten he was capable of. It was bright, like a glint of sun catching on the ocean waves of high summer; glittering and dancing.

“Herm, do you know what this means?” Newt said, excitement rocketing into his voice, leaping from the sofa and almost stumbling in his blanket cocoon. His hands found Hermann’s baffled shoulders and he squeezed, a laugh tumbling from him. “That’s a baby panda, right there!”

He laughed again, eyes sparkling. “That’s like a real life baby panda that was born _today_ Herm. That’s – that’s crazy! Look at that little guy! He’s just out there, living life, being born, saving a whole damn species of animal after near extinction – oh my God, _look,_ ” Newt scurried to the TV as the handler, presumably the breeder, placed the little bundle on the metal vet table. Its legs waved as it blinked blearily into the camera. The news reporter took on a less measured tone as they cooed over the miraculous parcel. Newton stared at the screen like the baby was something biblical and, Hermann supposed, it was. A small miracle in a Hell that almost was. Blinking at the light and completely unable to comprehend how rightly fantastical its own birth was.

“I can’t believe it! I cannot believe that we just – that they – Hell, Hermann, we almost lost these guys for good when the Kaiju came. All their food was gone, they didn’t have a home… they suffered as much as we did and just… look at that little guy. They’re fighting back in the only way their species knows how; how amazing is that?” It was like Newton was staring at the universe, there were so many stars shining in his eyes.

Hermann meant to agree. He meant to say, reasonably, yes, it is amazing. Scientifically fascinating. Instead, his brain threw reasonable to the breeze and spoke for him.

“You’re amazing Newton,” he said. New froze for an instant, and Hermann felt his own body tense. He had no idea where it had come from, only that his follow up thought was that, really, it wasn’t an untrue statement. He kicked himself for that thought too.

“I mean-” he began, but then Newt looked at him with wide, frightened eyes and Hermann didn’t know what kind of monsters could look at the fear of criticism in Newt and want to exploit it. The Precursors, maybe. Maybe even himself when they’d fought hard in the lab. But that was before the last ten years, and before he’d been inside Newton’s head, and before he’d seen every insecurity he had laid bare.

Exploiting it now would be crueller than he’d ever been.

“Amazing,” was all he said instead. Newt had stared at him for a long time, then back at the television screen as the news story changed and the miracle faded away into its new life.

Thinking back on it, Hermann still didn’t disagree with it.

_Newton Geiszler, you really are quite amazing._ It was what he should have followed it with, but the flutter in his chest had got the better of him and he’d instead dipped his head and returned to his book, bringing it through to the living room to sit beside Newt. As usual, the unconvinced look in Newton’s expression had cowed him and he shrank back, keeping one uninterested eye on his novel and the other on Newt as he seemingly tried to process Hermann’s words. He always looked to be decoding any compliment he received, regardless of its origin. It didn’t take a genius to trace that particular habit back to its source. 

It was true. Hermann _did_ find Newt amazing. He couldn’t think of anyone else so brave, or so strong, or so intelligent. He was the only person that had ever been able to challenge Hermann and, in the ten years he’d been away from the PPDC, it was clear that he was the only person that could break Hermann’s heart. Hermann knew that, if asked, he should probably call that love, but it was so natural to him, so constant in his relationship with Newton that it was only his absence that had made him realise what had gone so long unsaid. And by then, it was too late.

And now? It was surely obvious to Newton, even if he hadn’t already seen it in the Drift. It was almost ridiculous how needy Hermann must appear. He’d practically insisted on Newton staying with him, and he’d barely left him alone since his return. He also knew it wasn’t fair to expect Newton to reciprocate. There had been the odd time in the lab, when they’d had a kind word of support for each other, but there had been so much arguing that Hermann wouldn’t be surprised if he’d thought Hermann hated him. And after the Precursors… Hermann couldn’t expect anything from Newton. The Precursors had taken that chance from both of them.

As for him… Hermann didn’t know how the rest of this turned out. But, if he could help Newton, that much was enough.

Hermann started as the door opened and he quickly switched his tabs. Newt didn’t immediately scan the room for Hermann as he often did, but instead he shrugged off his jacket, ditching it on the floor where it fell. Hermann scowled at it until Newt caught his gaze from the sofa and picked it up. He shot Hermann a nervous, uncomfortable smile and Hermann forcefully quelled the worried tug in his gut. That wasn’t the expression he wanted to see on Newton’s face after a therapy session.

Newton walked tentatively to the sofa and perched himself on the arm, picking at a thread on his skinny jeans.

“Newton, are you quite alright?” Hermann asked. Newt did a weird half-nod, half-shrug and then sighed, looking up at Hermann nervously. That there was so much strength behind his vulnerability always caught Hermann off-guard. Newt visibly took a deep breath.

“Hermann,” he said slowly, “I… I have something to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I hate misunderstandings between characters? Yes, yes I do. Am I still using it because these are two are dorks who couldn’t even communicate their Drift compatibility for like, a decade, before PC1? Yes, yes I am. Also, a Christmas Cliffhanger™ 
> 
> Hope you all have a wonderful festive season!


	5. Timing is a Science

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! I got carried away with the new year and a zine submission so this is a little late but, also, I've run out of buffer chapters and daMN this chapter was difficult to write.

“Hermann, I… I have something to tell you,” Newt said. Hermann was sure that he had a rare medical condition that made everything inside him clench whenever Newt said those words. Especially now, when he slumped in from therapy, face drawn and nervous, looking exhausted. Unhappy. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“I have something to discuss with you also.” He winced. _Stupid, foolish Hermann._ Rule one of this whole recovery malarkey was supposed to be about letting Newton speak when he had to, about listening to what he had to say after he’d spent so long being ignored by beings in his own mind. Not being spoken over by impulsive, poorly planned outbursts that Hermann hadn’t even fully conceived in his own head yet.

All he could think about, selfishly, was that he wasn’t sure how he was going to keep his face from falling when his heart broke. When Newton finally worked up the courage to say that he was ready to move on, to move out, because he deserved better. He deserved to recover and get his own life back, free from Hermann everywhere he looked. Newton had already seen the insides of his mind; what if he already saw Hermann’s feelings… and felt nothing but trapped by them? The idea that Newton might feel obligated to reciprocate the man who had apparently rescued him made Hermann feel sick with guilt.

It was as cruel as anything the Precursors might have said to him when they were still inside Newt. Hermann only hoped he’d never been so cruel to Newton.

“Oh,” Newt said. He blinked, chewing his lip nervously. “Okay.”

“You can go first, if you like,” Hermann said. Newt shrugged.

“No it’s cool, I’ve been talking for, like, ages in session anyway. You can… you can go,” he mumbled. Hermann almost argued, a snippy retort that no doubt didn’t suit the moment but boiled up all the same. He pushed it down. This was hard enough to say as it was, without an argument.

“I…” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been thinking. Newton, I don’t want to be the person holding you back. I’m sure you already know how I feel about our… situation, but… if it doesn’t suit you, if it’s not conducive to your recovery or you feel that you might need the space, I would fully understand. I only want to see you… happy.”

He didn’t dare look Newton in the eye. Newt had looked at him with so many emotions through the years; annoyance, friendship, hatred, joy. Seeing his rejection laid bare wasn’t even the worst thing he could imagine anymore. That was reserved for a look of relief; the very idea that he’d already kept Newton in a state of limbo for too long and was finally releasing him.

Newton was quiet for a long moment. There was a rustling sound of fabric as he shifted and the faint remnants of their Drift shifted with it, drawing back like an animal licking its wounds. Hermann felt a lump build in his throat at the feeling, choking him. He wanted to cough, to shift the crag of emotion but it came out as a vaguely hurt sound, barely above a whisper.

“You… you want me to go?”

Newton sounded choked too, but when Hermann looked up, there was a blankness in his stare that frightened him and hurt him at the same time. It was like loving the hand that choked him, like the feeling of taut skin beneath his thumb which would eventually squeeze the breath out of him.

“I – no. I mean, if you want to leave, then you should. I won’t stop you,” Hermann said, “I don’t want to be an obstacle.”

“An obstacle? To what?”

Hermann had the answer to that. He always had the answer, to every question he’d ever been asked. But asking the right question was, right now, so impossible that it might as well have been just a memory of a thought.

“I only want what is best for you,” Hermann said, lamely. There was another drawn out, agonising silence before Newt stood.

He heard the choked sound that Newt made as he stalked slowly from the room and wondered if he’d imagined it, longing for his own throat to unclench enough to make any sound at all.

The closing of the door finally unclipped something in his chest and Hermann couldn’t hold back the sound if he tried. Sobs wrenched his body first into agony, and then, with sore, tired eyes, into sleep.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set by the time Hermann woke, slumped awkwardly on the sofa. He couldn’t remember a time before Newton’s possession when he’d cried himself to sleep; now there were more nights he’d done so than fingers on his hands.

His eyes felt sore and itchy in the golden light and his mouth was tacky as he sat up. The living room was pooled in apricot sun, the last light of the day beginning to drip like syrup down the walls. He stood shakily, wiping at his face with his hand, leaning heavily against his cane.

Newton hadn’t returned.

For all Hermann knew, Newton wasn’t going to return.

He felt the same lump build in his throat once more and he swallowed it down bitterly. _And what of it? You’re going to cry yourself asleep again like a dumped teenager?_ He cursed himself, thumping his cane once against the ground in frustration. He was being ridiculous, he knew. Years ago he would have chided himself for being unprofessional, for being too emotional. Now, with Newton ingrained in his mind, his own passion and emotion came quick to the surface and Newton’s tendency to run unchecked let it swallow him whole.

Newton. The sound he had made when he’d fled from the room had been… Hermann couldn’t think of the word. It was a variable that didn’t equate. All he had done was give Newton an option, a way out if he wanted one. Hermann had hated himself for it because, selfishly, he wished Newton would say no, not because it would upset him.

Had it upset him? Hermann couldn’t imagine why. After months of being watched and scrutinised, he’d imagined Newton would have jumped at the chance to be his independent, free-spirited self once more without Hermann as his ball and chain.

And yet. _I have something to tell you._

Hermann headed for the door.

* * *

His instincts regarding Newton were rarely wrong and, sure enough, when Hermann opened the door to their platform on the Shatterdome’s outer wall, Newton was there. His back was straight this time, no longer tilted toward the fatal fall, and he didn’t startle when the door announced Hermann’s arrival with a metallic groan.

He didn’t turn to face Hermann when he joined him at the railings, resting his cane on the cold metal. The ocean stretched out before them, turned to gold in the fading light. The sun kissed the land in the distance, the now divided orb forming a crown over the horizon.

There was a bird flying low over the waves, scanning for fish. It was just visible from their vantage point, barely more than a shadow far below them. Newt watched it intently. His eyes, too, were tinged pink and Hermann couldn’t help but stare, thinking of the last time their eyes matched.

He cleared his throat. “I should have let you speak, earlier,” Hermann mumbled, “I’m sorry.” Newt shrugged. It shouldn’t have irked Hermann, but it did, the way that Newton disregarded poor treatment. He shrugged when pilots talked behind his back. He shrugged when the Rangers declared him unfit for the lab. He shrugged when Hermann didn’t listen.

“It’s fine,” he said, and shrugged. Hermann sighed. He was about to press on when Newt finally glanced at him, eyes glistening with trepidation.

“I just… I thought you’d have told me before now, if you wanted me out,” Newt said softly. Hermann gaped.

“That’s not what I meant at all, Newton,” he said. Again, another shrug.

“It wasn’t exactly subtle. I know I’m hard to live with, and you want to get on with your own life, I just…”

“You just… what?” Hermann said, “I swear, Newton, if you shrug at me again, I will push you off this platform.”

Newt spluttered a laugh at that. Hermann managed a smile at the way Newton’s eyes crinkled.

“You were going to say something, before I interrupted with, evidently, the wrong thing,” Hermann said, “I think, maybe, my timing was inappropriate.”

“Our timing usually is,” Newt answered sullenly.

“So, maybe we can correct that. Timing is a science, after all,” Hermann said. Newt smiled gently. His face look softer, younger, in this light, as if the lines in his cheeks were filled in by sunbeams. Hermann thought it might be the most important detail he would ever notice in his life.

“You said that I made you happy,” Newt said at last. His voice was almost lost to the waves, the sea as shy as he was. “Before all of this.”

“You make me happy,” Hermann corrected, “I know that you don’t believe it but-”

“I’m happy too,” Newt interrupted, “I mean, not like, with everything. I’m not happy with being a world murdering psycho or losing years of my life because of a stupid alien hive-mind, and living here kind of sucks but… I’m happy when you’re around.” He paused, looking at Hermann’s face like he was trying to find the next thing to say.

“I want to stay happy,” Newt admitted quietly, like it was a terrible secret, “I want to stay with you and be happy.”

Hermann was sure he’d found a new phrase that made everything in him clench painfully.

“You want to stay?” Hermann said. Newt nodded. Hermann remembered the look on Newt’s face when he came home, thought about the sound he’d made as he left. He thought about all the years that Newt had spent hurting, and the time he too had been so miserable without him. The wasted years apart, the things they should have said and done. Thought about the mountain of misunderstandings piled behind them and everything they’d never said that now seemed as obvious as gravity itself.

All of it didn’t have to be a part of their future. Only the good things. Only the things that felt as natural as falling.

He was so close to Newton now that they were almost touching. They shared a burst of auburn sunset on their faces, their opposite cheeks transitioning from shadow into glorious, warming light.

“I would like that too, Newton,” Herman said. His breath filled the space between them and condensed on his cheek and Newt’s.

Hermann wondered if all that time waiting for the world to end, ten years and more that he’d never once thought of anyone else but Newton, had been leading to this. The sun was setting on a world they both might never step out into again.

He couldn’t imagine the world mattering less to him. He’d spent years trying to save it and now, now he deserved to share his own little piece of it with the person he wanted it safe for.

They were so close that he could see the nervousness on Newt’s face, the flutter of his hair in the wind.

“I’d like to kiss you, Newton,” Hermann breathed.

Newt smiled like the sun, and something warm and safe settled in his eyes. Hermann had done that. Hermann had fallen for someone that looked at him like the horizon faced the shore, Hermann had loved this man so long and –

Newt kissed him, and Hermann tasted the sunset on Newt’s lips. It was every kiss they should have had, in LOCCENT on the day they won, on the lab floor on the day Hermann almost lost it all, every day in between and beyond that Hermann hadn’t existed without Newt _Newt Newt._

Newt made a sound in the back of his throat, needy and halfway to giddy laughter and Hermann kissed harder, trying not to smile into how right this was. He could feel Newt’s hands pulling him closer, on his hips and his back and through his hair, like he wanted to rest inside Hermann's very skin and become a part of his bones, but they were already close enough to be one person.

The thought didn’t leave him as he caught one of Newt’s hands and held it, drawing back breathlessly. Newt chased him, peppering his lips with more kisses, like he’d never stop. Hermann didn’t want him to.

“I dunno,” Newt breathed, between another kiss, “How we’ve never… God, we’ve missed so much.”

Hermann pressed his lips back to Newt’s. He ran his hand through the back of Newt’s hair, tangling his fingers in it gently, cradling that beautiful, powerful mind in the cup of his hand. Newt deserved more than thinking of missed time.

He licked at Newt’s lip and he swore he felt Newt wobble beneath him, like he'd grabbed the railing, and Hermann tried not to smirk. Evidently, he failed, as Newt opened his lips in a groan when Hermann’s grin dragged teeth across his mouth. Hermann wasn’t the least bit surprised when Newt deepened the kiss, vying for dominance because he could never very well leave a challenge alone.

Time stretched. Ten years felt so very small. Hermann would have waited a hundred years for the eternity he had in this moment with Newton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m that girl from Never Been Kissed (is that movie about a girl? Who’s never been kissed? I’ve never seen it?) so I write kiss scenes like a DEAD FISH I AM SO SORRY. Legit, I hope no-one was excited for the first kiss (I know everyone is always excited for the first kiss, who am I kidding?) because hey, I apparently can’t write two lips touching each other.


	6. Handwriting of God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January is a MESS, and so am I. Sorry for my posting being screwy lately, I've got a lot of stuff on at the minute (mostly I have a thousand and one things to do for the show I'm taking to Edinburgh Fringe this year) and I'm a bit frazzled. I'm also aware that I might be writing into the abyss but #WritingForMe is a thing I'm trying to do more of this year anyway :D

Newton looked positively smug when they returned to the apartment. Before, well, before Hermann had kissed Newton Geiszler against a romantic sunset, Hermann might have been inclined to scowl at the self-satisfied tug of Newton’s lips, but now he couldn’t help but smile at the giddy excitement in Newt’s step. And, maybe, he quite fancied kissing the smug look right off his face, later.

“So, safe to say that kissing you is the closest thing we have to the handwriting of God, right?” Newt grinned as he flopped onto the sofa, looking up at Hermann like a satisfied cat. He looked tired, sleepy even, but contented. Hermann failed at a scowl.

“Shut up, Newton.”

“I’d tell you to make me, but that’s a cliché, even for me.”

Hermann rolled his eyes. There was a brief pause wherein the unspoken question in the silence was all too loud. _What now?_ He propped his cane against the side of the sofa and sat awkwardly in the slither of space by Newt’s stomach. Newt shimmied backwards, the heat from his body retreating from Hermann’s back. He resisted the urge to scoot back with him and chase warmth.

“So, I guess this means you’re okay with me sticking around?” Newt asked quietly. Hermann looked at him in surprise.

“I’ve never not wanted that.” Newt’s brow crinkled at the double negative and then, deciphering it, opened his mouth to mock Hermann’s grammar, no doubt.

“What I mean to say,” Hermann interrupted, “Is that I only suggested the idea of separate living spaces because I thought you’d be tired of me by now. I thought I was maybe… cramping your rock star style.” He didn’t put his usual air quotations around ‘rock star’ and Newt blushed, dipping his gaze away.

“I wouldn’t get tired of you Hermann,” he replied. There was a hint of disbelief in his voice, but Hermann knew from experience that that was Newt’s little war with his internal therapist, as he called it, not to argue over his supposed rock star status.

“Well, yes, I know that now,” Hermann pointed out. Newt snorted and pushed his knee lightly to Hermann’s back. Hermann rocked with the motion and let a smile split his face.

“Sorry for over-reacting, then,” Newt said, “In my defence, I was dealing with some stuff. You wouldn’t believe it, but a few months ago, I had an alien hive mind controlling my brain. I haven’t got around to putting it on my dating profile yet.”

Hermann gave Newt an admonishing look but Newt merely grinned.

“If this is too soon,” Hermann began. Newt laughed and cut him off.

“No, no, dude, seriously, this is good. Way better than good actually. Just, you know, processing the fact that you’re actually cool with the fact that I’m a total mess.”

“I’m, in fact, very cool with that fact Newton, and have been for rather a long time, if you hadn’t noticed” Hermann said. Newt made a face, screwing up his nose in fake disgust.

“Oh God, when you say stuff like ‘cool’, it’s so weird,” he deadpanned, “It’s like hearing my grandad quoting a meme or something.”

“Newton, I’m barely older than you!”

“I’ve turned into one of those people who date old men,” Newt gasped, and dodged a smack that Hermann directed at his head, “You’re not even rich! Are you? ‘Cos by now, that PPDC pension must be-”

“Must you be such a child, Newton?” Hermann sighed. Newt cackled, squirming with a devilish glint in his eyes. Hermann felt his ears turn pink, fully aware that now he knew exactly what kissing Newt felt like, it was absurd how much he wanted to do it again. Especially now, his mouth curled into a smile, his hair mussed in the cushions, his eyes sparkling. He could barely restrain himself from reaching out to touch Newt’s face, to actually feel the smile beneath his fingers and let it shoot up his arm into his heart. Instead, he simply rested the hand on Newt’s upper arm, gentle but grateful for the zap of warmth.

Newt stilled. “We are… I didn’t mean – We might not be dating, if you don’t want. It’s kind of been a while, I’m not normally a guy who’s like, one kiss and we’re totally boyfriends now or-”

“I think we’ve waited quite long enough,” Hermann pointed out. Newt nodded.

“Actually,” Hermann said, “I brought up your future earlier because it’s been somewhat on my mind, recently. I thought that maybe it was time for you, us, to leave the Shatterdome. This old relic has no use to the world anymore, we’d stagnate here. If we were to move back into the world, start our own work once again, I think it would be good for us.”

There was an unmistakable look of panic on Newt’s face. His body froze rigid, except for the deep staccato rise and fall of his chest, his eyes widening a little in fear. Hermann could practically see the thoughts rocketing around his brain at a speed that only Newton Geiszler could hope to process. The last time Newt had been out in the world, it had been with the Precursors still in his brain.

“Hermann, I don’t know,” Newt said. Thoughts clogged up the words and he took a pause, waiting for the traffic of paranoid ideas to pass before he could say another word.

“I’d be there to help you,” Hermann promised, “And we can’t stay here forever, you deserve better than that.”

“No I-” The automatic reply almost made it out unchecked before Newt snapped his mouth shut and he wriggled upright, sitting to face Hermann.

“I don’t think I know what to do out there, anymore,” he admitted. Hermann stayed silent, letting him work it out on his own. Newton was still the smartest mind Hermann had ever encountered; he knew that there was no future for him here, he just had to wait for his emotions to catch up with his logic. It made a change from Newt’s usual process.

Newt chewed at his lip, looking at his knees. Eventually, slowly, he nodded. “You’re right,” he said, “Yeah.” He sounded a little unsure, but he was calmer. Hermann slid his hand across his knee and twined his fingers with Newt’s. Newt looked up at him, surprised, but Hermann kept his eye on the join between their fingers, like it was an equation he’d never seen before. A complete, solvable puzzle. Newt closed his fingers around his, holding on firmly.

“They’re not going to go for it, though,” Newt murmured, “I’m not just going to be allowed to walk out of here, I’m still a security threat.”

“No, you’re not,” Hermann said, “You _were_ a security risk, yes, months ago. But they need to learn that that is no longer true. You’re you. That’s enough of a guarantee for me, and it should be for them, also. You helped us save the world.”

“And I nearly destroyed it too,” Newt pointed out.

“You deserve the rest of your life, Newton. I refuse to let you serve a life sentence for the Precursor’s crimes.” He shifted, moving closer into Newt’s space, resting the side of his body at an angle to Newton’s. The contact seemed to bolster him, some of the tension leaking from Newt’s spine. Hermann squeezed closer, their legs resting close to one another’s. They were close enough that Hermann felt the vibration of Newt’s chest when he chuckled.

“What?” he said. He could feel Newt’s grin brush against the top of his hear when he rested his head against the back of Hermann’s.

“God help the Rangers if you’ve got your mind set on it,” Newt said. Hermann laughed.

For a moment, as real and prominent as the moment they’d first Drifted, Hermann felt like their Drift was suddenly and vibrantly turned outward: Newt’s body slotted into the space where Hermann’s wasn’t and their laughs paralleled perfectly with each other’s. Hermann could say, with complete honesty, that Drifting was something of a nightmare, but _this_ , being two wholes slotted into one? It was perhaps the handwriting of God, indeed.


	7. All Possibilities are Probabilities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else's 2019 feeling long and busy already?

Newt could hear a clock ticking somewhere, but he couldn’t place where. There was also the chance that it was just a nervous response to the tension in the room, an echo of all the movies he’d seen where there was a ticking clock to accompany awkward silences. He couldn’t have been more thrilled when Stacker had erected a digital doomsday clock.

Stacker’s son stared across the table at him with a look Newt had definitely seen before. Stacker had given him it when he’d threatened to quit if their funding wasn’t increased – a look that always had Newt backing down. He tried, for Hermann’s sake at least, not to crumble. Hermann had remained firm throughout their little meeting with the Rangers and was staring a hole into Lambert now that they’d ground to an impasse, silently staring the other down. Hermann was unmatched for stubbornness, which was a renowned fact in the Dome, but Newt had once been sure he matched him for it, and yet he was quite willing to just go home and forget the whole thing ever happened at this point.

Hermann’s proposal for Newt to be relocated outside of the Dome had met point blank refusal. To Newt’s surprise, which he later realised was misplaced, Nate wasn’t surprised at Hermann’s request. Newt should have known that Hermann had been already been laying the groundwork; he wasn’t a man to gamble. There had been yelling, and no shortage of threats on both sides, and Newt had felt himself drawing back. Years ago, he’d have been the first to start screaming, he’d been physically restrained from vaulting Stacker’s desk when their budget had been irrevocably cut, but the thought of raising his voice to the Rangers now made him feel sick. He’d caused enough damage as it was. 

Jake held back quietly too, shrugging when Nate wheeled on him to ask him where his support was. Newt too had merely opened and closed his mouth like a choking fish when Hermann told him to ‘join in any time’ but Jake, at least, had an answer for his Drift partner.

“He can’t stay in the Dome forever, ‘specially if we’re closing it down,” Jake had pointed out.

“He’s still a high level security risk, the Board would never-”

“I’m not asking about _them,_ Lambert,” Hermann said, “I’m asking you.”

“It’s really not my decision to make. If I thought Newt was a threat, I would tell you, but I have my orders too and Newt is perceived as being a high priority for risk. If anything were to happen, I couldn’t protect either of you,” Nate said.

“What is that supposed to mean, ‘if anything were to happen’? What exactly is it that you think will happen?” Hermann spat.

Newt swallowed down nausea. “Hermann, it’s not important.”

“It is, I want to hear this.”

Nate sighed. “Listen, there’s no scientific precur…” he paused, and corrected himself, “No scientific foundation for this, you’ve said that yourself. Proving that Newt is not a threat, and will continue to remain so, is just guesswork. Even with the Precursors gone, there’s no telling what psychologically dangerous effects there may be in the future.”

“Um, I’m not crazy,” Newt said, the indignant Emma in the back of his brain speaking for him. He didn’t really feel much conviction in it, but the reminder was there like she’d scheduled it in his brain. “And you know, also not deaf, I’m right here, if you think I’m still nuts.”

“That’s not what I think, Newt,” Nate said, “You’ve already proved that to me, I just don’t see the Board believing it. They won’t just take a personal recommendation, they need numbers, figures – something quantifiable.”

“Yeah, that’s familiar,” Newt mumbled, giving Hermann a pointed look, “So I guess we’ll just give them that, then.” Jake frowned, interest sparked.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“We’re scientists, I mean, I guess. He is, I’m – still, sort of,” Newt said, pointing a thumb at Hermann, “There’s tests we can do, numbers we can crunch, even if we’re sort of retired now. If I gotta go through tests, then I gotta go through tests, it’s just the way it is.”

Hermann bristled, hand tightening on his cane. “Absolutely not, you’re not getting prodded and poked like a lab rat for their satisfaction, it’s unfair in the highest degree for them to expect-”

“Fair’s never really come into it, Herm,” Newt pointed out. It – the war, their lives, _his_ life and missing out on everything that could and _should_ have been – had never been fair. And yet, here they were.

In all honesty, Newt didn’t share Hermann’s optimism about his chances in the real world. When he said he’d give his life to saving the world, this wasn’t what he had expected. And yet, he could still feel the warmth of Hermann’s back against his chest on the sofa in that ridiculous sweater, could peek over and see the laughter lines on Hermann’s cheeks that he didn’t think anyone else even bothered to look for. If leaving here was what he had to do for a life with Hermann, he’d willingly put himself up to be a lab rat. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do, to be honest.

Nate looked guilty, like he’d pushed Newt into doing something he wasn’t already prepared to volunteer for. Newt didn’t have anything but respect for Lambert. He was soon to be as out of his depth as Newt was, if he wasn’t already, a soldier thrust into a position where he had Boards and meetings and reports to write, with no war and no clear future. The Kaiju had done one good thing for mankind; wars between nations had ceased pretty quickly once they realised they didn’t wield the biggest guns on the planet. Soldiers were now in pretty small demand. Although, if there was one thing Newt was sure about the rest of the world, it was that violence never took long to blossom. They shared that, at least, with the Precursors.

“I swear, you two have been a bigger pain in my ass than the whole Dome has ever been,” Lambert grumbled and Newt smothered the insane urge to laugh. That one he had _definitely_ heard. Jake looked amused too, though Newt couldn’t tell whether it was because it was familiar to him too or because he knew Lambert would be swayed eventually. It wasn’t like there was much Nate could say no to nowadays – it was the start of the new world, it’d take a certain kind of monster to deny someone their chance to live in it.

“I’ll make the suggestion, but you’re presenting the motion to the Board when we’re ready,” Nate said, glaring at Hermann.

“I don’t mind putting in a recommendation too,” Jake said, “Might not be worth anything but we can give it a go?” Newt bit the inside of his cheek hard. A recommendation? For what? For helping to save the world, only before and after he’d managed to get Jake’s sister killed? There was no Emma in the back of his head for that thought, only cold, hard guilt and he knew that there was no curing that. He nodded thickly as an excuse to hang his head.

“Thank you, I think it will help a great deal,” Hermann said, tone still sharp and clipped. Newt blushed, trying to imagine that Hermann’s indignation was about anything other than Newt’s standing, but it did nothing to cool the heat in the tips of his ears. If Jake’s grin was anything to go by, it was the last thing he noticed about Newt before Newt practically ran from the room, Hermann nodding briskly to the Rangers and leaving with him.

* * *

Newt was so full of nervous energy that he wasn’t paying attention to where they walked, and the destination was a surprise.

“Are we going to the lab?” he said. He’d been blindly stumbling along beside Hermann, chatting incessantly about Lambert’s answer. He was annoying himself with his chatter but he simply couldn’t _stop._ It was like the words were building a shield between him and everything that was making him anxious.

“I thought we might be able to figure out some of these tests you’ve decided to sign yourself up to,” Hermann said unconvincingly, and then, “I thought it might be calming to be in the lab. You seem… erratic.”

Newt shrugged, words stoppering like the gurgle of a plugged drain.

“What – what if…” he trailed off, the sound turning to dust in his mouth, leaving his throat dry. Hermann nodded for him to go on.

“What if we do all these tests, and we find out that they’re really not in my head anymore, but they’ve just messed me up? What if I’m just… what if this is just me now?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I mean, what if my head is just rewired to always think like this? Like, all the little things I catch myself thinking sometimes, like thinking about what they’d be saying or what they’d want me to do. I mean, hell Hermann, even just coming to the lab makes me think of about 800 things I could do in here that’re… bad. What if they’ve re-made me to be like that now?”

Hermann paused, lips pursed. Newt’s intrusive thoughts rarely came into their conversations, like unwanted guests that spoiled the dinner party. From the look he gave him, Newt was pretty sure Hermann hadn’t expected them to still be so vivid. But, Hermann-like, he persevered.

“Do you act on those thoughts?”

“No, but I think them. Sometimes, I think through what the whole plan would be before I even catch myself doing it,” Newt said. The admission felt choking.

“But you don’t fulfil that,” Hermann pointed out, “You’re not that person, Newton. Just because you have those thoughts doesn’t make you that person; _not_ acting on them makes you the person you are.”

Newt nodded. He knew somewhere deep down that Hermann was probably right, but he didn’t feel like agreeing with him right now. The lab looked inviting and the low glow of the electric lights chased some of the shadows from Newt’s mind. He sighed and made his way to the couch, plopping down on it gracelessly. Hermann chuckled, perching himself more delicately next to Newton.

“I’m glad you kept this old thing,” Newt said, patting the fabric. At this point, the material was a little gross, dusty from lack of use and stained all over with Kaiju spillages and, no doubt, patches of drool from back when Newt used to take sprawling naps on this thing. There was still a grease stain from the only take-out he’d ever eaten on here before Hermann had scolded him for wiping his hands on the upholstery.

“I think I was waiting for you to come back,” Hermann said, “I wasn’t sure what I should keep.”

Newt’s ached at that and he looked over at Hermann. Newt gave him a sad smile and, to his surprise, Hermann leaned in and, looking around to ensure they were alone, gave Newt a peck on the lips.

Newt moved back an inch, stunned. He wasn’t sure why he had such an uneasy reaction, he’d definitely been way into their last kiss, and a few years back he’d have been the one itching to get canoodling on the sofa, but Hermann’s gentleness put him on edge. Maybe because Hermann being gentle often made Newt feel like there was something wrong, like the usually strong edge to Hermann’s mannerisms was wary of some kind of danger, maybe Newt himself, maybe something else, but it made him nervous all the same.

So he did what he had always done; he escalated. Leaning in, he put his hand on the back of Hermann’s head and pushed forward into a kiss, catching Hermann off-guard and drawing a startled sound from him. The butterflies in his stomach whenever he got quite this close to Hermann took flight and he shuffled closer on the couch, smiling when Hermann did the same. There was still a feeling of nervousness that Newt couldn’t dispel but he focused on Hermann’s small smile, and tried to replicate it on his own face.

“You kept the couch so we could make out on it, didn’t you?” Newt joked. Hermann laughed, a full sound that Newt rapidly catalogued as his favourite thing in the world.

“All possibilities are probabilities in science,” Hermann agreed. Newt kissed him again and, his body controlling the movement more than his mind, he swung a leg over Hermann’s lap, straddling him. Hermann raised an eyebrow.

“This okay?” Newt asked.

“Quite perfect,” Hermann said, and pulled Newt in by his shirt to kiss him. Newt yelped with surprise when Hermann planted a kiss to his neck, trailing up and down the line from his ear to just above his shirt collar. Electricity zapped down his spine and he groaned as he felt interest pool, like curiosity, like revelation, in his groin.

Hermann smiled against his neck and mumbled something that sounded like praise and Newt almost whimpered, only keeping the sound in because damn Hermann, everything was a competition with him, including, apparently, sex. He ground his hips down just to make Hermann curse in return, and grinned. Point to him.

Hermann’s hands moved from his back to the buttons on Newt’s shirt and Newt’s heart-rate spiked, arousal flooding through him.

Arousal… and panic.

The still-conscious part of his brain hoped it was just a momentary short-circuit, a brief misunderstanding between his brain and his body because _please, no, not with this_. A few more seconds of pleasure and then the same panicked signal cut across his brain. For a few seconds, a white flash of indescribable panic ejected all other thoughts from his mind. Hermann’s hands felt far away and all he could think about was the pleasure in his body, uncontrollable, complete. Suddenly he was sat alone in an armchair, his hand on a button, implicit in his own captivity.

There was another word for that unwanted pleasure that he didn’t want to use because it felt too awful; and he hadn’t been alone. Alice had been there, in her tank, in his head, making him feel like he was flying in his own mind.

He tried to shove the thought away. This was _Hermann._ Gentle, clever Hermann who had never hurt him, who had been inside his mind and still wanted him. And yet, the feeling of pleasure electrocuted all conscious thoughts from his head and he whimpered. It felt like another entity was latched onto him and was leeching the feeling out of him against his will. Confusion warred with the animalistic fear and humiliation coursing through his veins. He’d initiated this, he should be – _like you initiated your Drift with Alice?_ His thoughts sounded too much like them sometimes.

“Newt? Newton!”

Hermann’s voice made it through the fog and Newt jerked back too quickly and fell backwards, landing painfully on his tailbone on the floor. He yelped, hand immediately clutching the base of his spine. He was vaguely aware of Hermann scrambling up. He flinched back from Hermann’s touch when he tried to help him to his feet and he didn’t have the wherewithal to feel guilty when Hermann’s hands pulled back.

“Newt? What happened, are you alright?”

Newt practically crawled onto the couch and shook his head, gasping, words a far-gone prospect. He held up a hand. _In a moment._ Hermann understand and sat down. He waited for Newt to get his breath back, for that cold feeling of need to leave him and Alice to retreat to that awful space in the back of his mind where he could always feel her watching him.

“A-Alice,” Newt managed eventually. He winced, hating himself for that first word coming from his mouth. God, what Hermann would think of him was a thought too sickening to imagine.

Hermann looked momentarily confused, concern creasing his brow and then, to Newt’s dismay, he grasped all too well what Newt had said.

“Newton-” he began. Newt shook his head.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, “I started it, I wanted it, honest, I just… I didn’t know that… I didn’t think she’d – that she’d still be there.” The words made him shudder and Hermann inched forward. He telegraphed the movement of his hand carefully, lifting it to show his intentions and Newt nodded, allowing him to place it on his knee. There was no pleasure in the touch, but there was a vaguely warm sense of comfort that Newt appreciated.

“I used to Drift with her just to feel good, or, I don’t know, to feel _something_. And now it’s all messed up,” Newt admitted, “I don’t mean – you’re not her, I know that. I just… the feelings are all mixed up. It’s like, as soon as I can’t control it, I get all panicky, but then if I _do_ control it, I just feel guilty.”

Hermann squeezed his knee lightly. “No, Newton, it’s not your fault. I should have been more aware. You weren’t to know what would happen.”

“Yeah, but what if I just _can’t_? What if I can never do that kind of thing again?” Newt said. He knew it was probably silly after everything he’d been through to worry about if he could ever get laid again, but he couldn’t help it. Especially now, when he finally had the chance to be with Hermann, to touch him, to make him feel good. Now he wasn’t sure he could even get it up without having a freak out.

“I don’t think this is a permanent issue, Newton,” Hermann said, “You’ve not had the opportunity to discover that it’s a problem yet, and now that we have, you can address it with Emma and work on it.”

Newt felt his face heat up. “Herm, you make it sound like it’s a calculus problem. I’m not telling Emma about this, that’d be weird.”

“She’s your therapist, Newton, I’m sure she’s more than capable of handling something like this.”

There was a clear innuendo in “handling” anything, but Newt didn’t have the energy to say that. Honestly, even talking about sex right now made him feel physically disgusting.

“She’s probably already got money on us getting together anyway, she’s a total matchmaker,” Newt said, “I think she knew before I did.”

“Then she won’t be surprised,” Hermann said, “We can work through this. And if we can’t, then we can’t; I won’t be any less happy or fulfilled to be with you, Newton.”

Newt blinked. He’d always seen Hermann as an asexual kind of guy until recently, which only made this conversation weirder, but now he knew that Hermann was a) totally up for it and b) insanely sexy, it surprised him to think that Hermann wouldn’t mind if they couldn’t have sex. Maybe it was the cynic that the Precursors had made of him that made him think Hermann would be disappointed somehow.

“You should know that I love you, regardless of whatever challenges we have to face. If I have to fight Precursors or whatever fears you have in that warren-like brain of yours, then I’m quite willing to do so, Newton.”

_I love you, regardless._ Newt’s world skittered to a bumpy stop and then restarted, like a sunrise at the very break of day. _I love you, regardless._

He met Hermann’s eyes, and saw warmth and concern, affection. And, he realised quite suddenly, the truth.

He put his hand on Hermann’s, twining their fingers. The thought of Alice drifted somewhere further away in his mind, which, Newt thought vaguely, was the start of a miracle.

If there was anyone in the world who could perform miracles, it was the man who’d saved the world twice, saved Newton’s life a few more times than that; and made Newton Geiszler feel loved again.


	8. Eavesdropping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry - as promised, this isn't abandoned, and won't be, but wow… February has been So Much. I'm working 3 jobs atm and I’m directing a theatre show for Fringe, so everything is mayhem and madness right now! Updates may be slow in March 'cos that also looks bleak time-wise, but April awaits <3

Holding Newt’s hand was one of the more pleasant things on Hermann’s list of duties recently, but it was still a somewhat painful experience at times.

Newt winced as a nurse, Rebecca, took another blood sample. His hand gripped Hermann’s tightly. He wasn’t usually afraid of needles – of course not, he had too many tattoos to even protest it – but his arm had already taken several needles in the same spot over the past couple of hours, and it looked sore.

“Who put me up to these tests again?” Newt grumbled.

“That would be you, Newton,” Hermann said. Newt scoffed and rubbed at his arm, taking the cotton swab that Rebecca offered him.

“Sweet,” Newt said. He looked tired and, although he wouldn’t admit it, Hermann was pretty sure that he’d been spacing out more often today. A week of tests and scans had come with an equal amount of nightmares and moments spent staring blankly into space. Hermann’s role had been holding Newt’s sanity intact, as well as holding his hand both literally and figuratively through the multiple tests. Not that he’d allowed himself to be indiscreet. The nurses had kept their gossip to a minimum if they’d noticed.

Personally, years of being seen side-by-side with Newton made holding hands seem like a small display of affection, but Hermann had yet to have the conversation about when exactly they were making their ‘relationship’ public. Or even, what they were calling the relationship at all.

Rebecca left with the sample, leaving Newt to pull down the arm of his t-shirt once more. He sighed, looking up at Hermann with an exhausted expression.

“Don’t give me that look, I know I signed up for this. I’m still allowed to complain,” he said.

“I’m not saying anything. Only that, so far, they’ve found no evidence of the Precursors still being alive or in your head, as I said to begin with. We already knew that.”

“They’re just making sure, Hermann. I wanna be sure, too.”

“As do I,” Hermann admitted. Sometimes when Newt woke them both up screaming so loudly that he forgot where they were, it was easy to forget that the Precursors were truly gone.

“Not long now, and all this will be over and we can disappear somewhere for good,” he said. Newt grinned and, glancing quickly around, leaned up to give him a peck on the lips.

“You’re a secret romantic, you know that Herm?”

Hermann rolled his eyes but couldn’t retort before Rebecca entered again. Newt snapped back into what Hermann had hatefully dubbed his ‘patient mode’. The tests made Newt too quiet, too childishly obedient. He complained only to Hermann, even when there was an obvious mistake or discomfort in the test. Hermann hated it.

“Well, that should be all for the blood samples, Mr. Newt,” Rebecca said, “And if these come back all normal, you’re all in the clear for the physical, so, that’s a really great job!” She had a giddy demeanour which irritated Hermann as much as he found it endearing, but Newt had taken an immediate shine to her. They were both equally as confounded as to why she insisted on calling him ‘Mr. Newt’, after being corrected about using his surname. Still, she found the little joke funny every time, it seemed.

“Thanks,” Newt smiled.

“I can try and rush those through to the lab, it’ll only take a couple of days. We’re not busy anymore.”

“If you need a second opinion on those results, I’d be happy to consult,” Hermann said. It was against the code of correct practice, but he couldn’t hold back the curiosity. Rebecca blushed and fiddled with her lab coat sleeves.

“Oh, um, I’m afraid the Rangers told me to say no, if you asked. Sorry,” she said.

“Nice try, Hermann,” Newt said. Hermann chuckled and shrugged apologetically. “Looks like you’ll have to wait like the rest of us.”

They thanked Rebecca and stood, Newt wavering a little. He looked pale after all the blood that he’d had drawn, and he shook his head like he was trying to clear water from his ears before he opened the door into the rest of the Dome. Hermann nodded at Rebecca and followed him, falling quickly into step next to Newt.

“Only the psychological evaluations left,” Hermann pointed out. Newt scrunched up his nose in a grimace. A Jaeger pilot passed, staring at Newt with hard eyes. He matched Hermann’s warning glare as he passed. Newt didn’t acknowledge the look, but his shoulders hunched more as they walked.

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he said.

“It’ll just be another session or two with Emma, nothing you haven’t done before.”

“Yeah except this one is getting graded. Even if my blood comes back okay, I don’t think I’m gonna pass a psych test, Hermann. It’s all screwed up in here.” He gestured at his head with a swirl of his fingers, like he was mixing up a stir of bad thoughts with the tangles in his hair.

“You don’t have to perfect, it’s only to prove that you’re getting better. Just be your usual self,” Hermann said. The look Newt gave him revealed exactly how often Hermann gave him that advice and meant it.

“Excuse me, I’m very perfect, thank you,” Newt said, cracking a thin smile.

“Oh please Newton, don’t inflate your ego any more or you’ll trip on it.” It was weak, but their banter had taken an easier cadence since their kiss, settling into a gentler form of their wartime bickering. Others probably heard their bickering as a flaw in their partnership, but the increase was a relief to Hermann. On the barometer of how loving Newton made him feel, their easy bickering rested right between comfortable safety and wanting to strangle the man. It was perfect.

“Hey, I recall you being on the other side of the world’s most incredible kiss that two scientists have ever-”

“World’s most incredible kiss? Really, Newton.”

“Is that a challenge I hear? I’ll kiss you again Hermann Gottlieb, don’t even think I won’t!”

“You’re even more insufferable when-”

Newt let out a squeak as they rounded a corner, slamming into the person coming the other way. They too let out an exclamation of surprise, one hand snapping out to steady themselves as Newt stumbled back quickly, while their other hand was slotted inside a control box on the wall.

“Amara!” Hermann spluttered.

Amara grinned, twisting a wire into place on the box and stepping back. “Hi Doc!”

“What on Earth are you doing here?”

“Um, they’re still packing up the Dome, so, you know, I’m still around. They needed one of these control boxes patched up, so I volunteered. It’s kinda boring since the whole war thing is over, you know?” She grinned, waggling her eyebrows at Newt, who blushed.

“So, you’ve been stood there the whole time?” Newt asked. Hermann replayed their last minute of conversation in his head and winced. Amara shrugged.

“Yeah? Whatever, I’ve been busy fixing this.”

Hermann breathed a silent sigh of relief. Amara probably wouldn’t tell anyone, even if she did hear them talking, but there was no guarantee that Newt would know that. “Where have you guys been?”

“Just tinkering around the lab, is all,” Hermann answered quickly. He didn’t know how much Newt wanted everyone to know about the testing, or how much suspicion it would arouse in the rest of the Dome. Most people were busy packing up, itching to leave, but there was still an abundance of people who held Newt in low regard. Lying to Amara wasn’t ideal, but it was better than watching Newt flounder.

Newt smiled tightly at him.

“Oh, neat! Hope it’s something fun, I’ve been planning some really cool stuff for when we bust out of this place. You guys should take a look at what I’ve got going on, you’d love it,” Amara said. Hermann chuckled, her confidence and joy infectious.

“Sounds good,” Hermann said, and then nodded to the control box, which had begun to beep, “We’ll leave you to your work.”

“Sure, see ya!” Newt gave her an awkward wave and dashed ahead, blushing. Herman rolled his eyes.

Amara grabbed Hermann’s arm as he made to follow and he blinked, surprised when she grinned and gave him an exaggerated wink.

“I don’t-” he began.

“I certainly hope it was an incredible kiss,” she said, “It’s about time, right?” Hermann choked on his sentence and coughed, glad that Newt was already fiddling with their apartment key card down the corridor. He felt his ears tinge pink with heat. Amara giggled.

“What? Just saying,” she said “And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” She let go of his arm with a smirk and he spluttered, stumbling over several excuses before settling on a weary sigh.

“Thank you, we… haven’t told anybody yet. I don’t even know what Newton thinks, really, about how, or even if, we’re going to tell others about this.” He paused, considering. Newt looked back down the corridor as he opened their door and Hermann made a casual wave for him to go inside. Newt shrugged and went in, disappearing from Hermann’s sight. “As it happens, it was rather a good first kiss,” Hermann said.

Amara laughed and scrunched up her face. “Okay, the fact that you said ‘first’ means that you two are all over each other which, by the way, is way too much information for me.”

“Perceptive as always.”

“Ew. Anyway, I wouldn’t worry about everyone else. You two are cool together, and I think everyone was kind of waiting for it to happen. I mean, I saw it and I haven’t even known you half as long as some of these pilots. So, you know, you tell people when you’re ready.”

She smirked, peering at Hermann like she could hear the cogs whirring in his head. From how hard he was deciphering the revelation that half the Dome seemed to have been betting on their relationship status, she probably could.

“Go get ‘em,” she said, jerking her head in the direction of their front door.

Hermann laughed, nodding his goodbye; and, as suggested, followed Newt’s path home.


	9. Ruining Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember leaving this, what seemed like maybe 2 months ago, to sort some of my life out. Leaving two jobs, directing/writing and taking up an Edinburgh Fringe show, moving house followed and... here we are, about 6 months since I last posted??? 
> 
> I imagine no-one has stuck with this story this long but I refuse to abandon it as I made myself promise not to leave stories unfinished. So here I am, posting again. It feels a bit weird to be coming back to this story on this chapter because this one was always intended to be a more reflective chapter, but that seems a bit unfair given I've been away for so long, so I'm sorry for that!! 
> 
> I'm currently on holiday and searching for a new job so I'm unable to promise much but I can at least say that it's going to be finished :D

There was vomit in Emma’s waste paper basket.

Newt had tried to make it to the restrooms outside in the waiting area but had collapsed to his knees halfway there, dragging the paper basket over to him with a groan. Emma had gone to empty it, shrugging off his apologies. Heat furiously filled his cheeks when she came back in, the basket suspiciously disappeared.

“I am so sorry,” he croaked. He felt truly miserable as he took a sip from his glass, thankful that there was a jug of water perched on the table.

“Don’t worry about it, it happens more often than you’d think,” Emma said lightly. Newt scoffed.

“Does the PPDC offer discount on all your trash cans when it comes to the office orders?”

“Trash cans, pen holders, anything that holds liquid. Believe me, you’re not the worst I’ve had.” She gestured to the vase of fake flowers that sat on her desk. They were peonies, or as close to peonies as plastic decorations could get, given that real flowers were somewhat of a luxury in the apocalypse.

“Let’s just say that those are my third bunch of flowers since I arrived,” Emma said, “All my sessions got a little more intense after the Kaiju came through the ocean.”

Newt scrunched up his nose and breathed out a shaky laugh. He was secretly grateful for the break in their session, despite the embarrassment. He was trying to be subtle about the way his head was pounding with the start of a migraine. They’d been at it for too long now, question after awful question about the Precursors that Newt could tell Emma wasn’t happy asking. Emma’s clipboard was upturned on her desk, the results of Newt’s psych test carefully jotted in appropriate boxes of neat handwriting. It looked unreal, to put all of his thoughts and fears into little categories, sorting his brain into a linear train of thought. He could look at it, if he tilted his head and leaned just a little, but he didn’t. Not only because he knew it would only upset Emma to see him peering at her notes, but also because he didn’t want to see the product of his brain splashed out over the page. If it all suddenly made sense, he might not like what he found.

“Do you want to stop?” Emma asked. Newt shook his head vehemently.

“No. No, keep going.”

“Newt, nobody is going to be angry with you if we pick this up another time. The Council would understand if you had to take a break.”

“They’d be able to see that I couldn’t hack it,” Newt spat, wishing he didn’t sound so venomous, “And I… I don’t think I can wait any longer Em. Even just waiting to do this one was awful, worrying about it all the time. I couldn’t sleep last night, it drove Hermann crazy.”

Emma nodded at the mention of Hermann and picked up her clipboard. Newt almost regretted not taking a peek at it.

“I shouldn’t really tell you this because I don’t want you to conflate what I say with the Council’s overall decision, but I think it could put you at ease regarding your own development,” Emma said, “I’m going to be recommending you for leave. I think your evaluation gives good evidence that the Precursors are no longer in control and I think you are safe in your own mind to make good decisions.”

Newt stared at her. His first instinct was to laugh, maybe, but he could imagine the hysterical bubble in his throat breaking and it made him feel a little nauseous. He tried to look for a sign that she was joking but that seemed too cruel.

“I just puked in your office,” he said instead. Emma nodded.

“Newton, nobody suggested that you were going to be completely psychologically hehealthyaled by now, that’s not what this test was for. This evaluation was to try and find out if the Precursors were still a threat.”

“Or if I was a threat,” Newt said. Emma raised an eyebrow at that and looked like she was going to write something but then folded her arms instead, dropping the clipboard to her knee.

“Or if you were a threat,” she agreed. It sounded less accusatory when she said it. Newt wished he could make his voice sound so steady and certain.

“Experiencing a strong reaction to some of the questions in this test is normal,” Emma pressed, “I personally think it was too soon to make you go through some of these things, but I also think that getting out of the Shatterdome would be a huge step in your recovery. It’s normal for you to have a negative response but that reaction is rooted in your emotions and past experience with the Precursors. Your experiences, not your personality. You’re expected to still be dealing with that, it has nothing to do with whether you are clear to leave.”

“And you think I’m ready? Really?” Newt spluttered.

“You need treatment, not guarding. There are therapists all over the world who would be excellently suited to continuing your treatment outside of the Shatterdome. Myself included; I’d be very willing to make house calls for a patient like yourself if you were close enough.”

Newt chuckled. He could still taste bile in his throat and he was convinced that nervously shovelling down water was only making his stomach feel more uneasy. His hands shook as he placed the glass back on the table.

“Can I be frank for a moment?” Emma said.

“Frank who?” he said, voice pitched too high to pass off as normal. It was a lame joke and Emma gave him an unimpressed look. He shrugged. 

“When are you not?”

“Recovery won’t magically happen when you leave the Dome. It will still be a process, but all those reactions that you’re afraid of giving because you think people might perceive you as lesser, or see the Precursors in you, are _human_ responses. They’re the reactions of a person who has gone through something painful. You’re not weak for feeling scared or ashamed, you’re human, which is proof that you fought those monsters and won. You are just human, Newt. Don’t be ashamed of other people seeing that.”

Newt nodded past the lump in his throat. It felt tight and constricting, sitting right above his chest and leaving little space for the hammering of his heart. There was some frantic part of him that had forgone logic and hoped, ridiculously, that maybe everything would be different if he left the Dome. Like he’d step out into the sunlight and it would wash him clean, or he’d dip a hand in the ocean and everything bad would seep out of his veins and end up discarded in a landfill on the other side of the Pacific. But he was heartbreakingly human. Maddeningly, pitiably, safely human. The fact no longer made him want to shed his skin violently and scurry away. His bones stood him up taller, his muscles pulled his back straight as he thought about those leering, empty eyes that used to watch his every movement.

He got to tell them that humanity would win. _Had_ won. And the Precursors had used him and hurt him and made him do all the awful things he’d never been able to imagine on his own, but they’d never feel victory or warmth or happiness. They’d never feel love. It was barely enough, considering every time they’d beaten him, all the things they’d snatched away. But humanity felt like a victory.

“I’m not sure if I really want to leave,” he said quietly. He hadn’t planned on admitting it, at least not until the Council came back with the news that he was trapped here and he could pretend, at least to himself, that he never thought about what the world was like outside of his cage.

“Then why put yourself through all this?” Emma asked. She sounded genuinely curious.

“Because Hermann wanted it,” Newt said, “And I don’t know, maybe I do too but I’m just so stirred up about everything out there, you know? What if I just can’t handle it all anymore and it cracks me up? What if Hermann has to take care of me all the time because I’m some kind of shut in?”

Emma gestured around them, at the steel walls keeping him shut in. He scowled.

“You won’t know until you try, I suppose,” Emma said. She made it sound like such a little thing, like it was just a step out into the garden to check for rain, like there was an umbrella was in hand and the door was still open. Options. Fall-backs. They’d talked about this, but it still felt huge.

“Yeah, I guess,” Newt said.

Emma shifted, uncrossing her legs and putting her clipboard aside. She was clumsy with her notes, discarding them in such a way that Newt often wondered if she lost them between sessions or had stacks of papers hidden in odd places around her office, only for her to have perfect recall the next session. He’d obsessed about it more than once to Hermann, who had given him a long-suffering look that bordered on pleading.

“Newton, do shut up, she’s not a sorcerer or a robot,” he’d say blandly.

He straightened up, mimicking Emma’s more open posture without even realising. He slouched once he realised it, catching the smirk she gave him. _Look at that, you’re opening up more and more every session,_ she’d said a few weeks ago. Newt had preened at that, privately.

“So, since I feel that we can continue the session without the testing, we might as well round it off to a nice, neat two hours, shall we?” she said. Newt looked at the clock on her wall. An hour and three quarters had passed since they’d started the session, longer than any of their previous ones. He hated the test a little bit more than he had a second ago.

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re rooting for gossip?” Newt teased. Emma pretended to look aghast, clapping a hand to her mouth.

“I’m a professional, Newton, I don’t know where you’d ever get that idea!”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes. He liked this better. She was probably the best the PPDC had, given his condition, but it showed in the oddest of ways. Like the way she played to Newt’s talkative tendencies and let him rail on about the most obscure of things before she brought him back to the topic, or when she posed things as just coffee talk. It was mostly an act, to make Newt feel at ease about sharing, but he supposed it was mutually beneficial. He felt a fraction more comfortable and she was able to get him talking about the hard stuff. It had taken a few hard sessions to strike the balance, until one day Newt found himself crying about Jaegers and too-young pilots without even realising that they’d really started the session. It was harder sometimes, easier others.

“But really, what’s been going on with you and Hermann after last session?” Emma said. Newt tried not to let himself break into a grin but failed spectacularly. Emma gasped.

“You told him!”

“Alright, no need to shout about it,” Newt grinned.

“I take it that it went well, then?”

“Well, we kissed, if that counts,” Newt said, “Actually we’ve been kissing a whole bunch since then.” Emma laughed, smothering it with her hand. Newt couldn’t help but chuckle too. Actually telling someone felt like he was spilling a secret but Hermann had already said it was okay. It felt good to actually confirm it to another person, like he wasn’t completely crazy and it really was happening. A choice he’d made that led to action.

“Well done on building up the courage to tell him, I know how worried you were,” Emma said. Newt blushed.

“Well, it didn’t go exactly to plan to begin with but, you know, we kind of got there. For a scientist, he’s actually a bit dense,” he said, and then, at Emma’s raised brow, continued, “Okay so we’re both a bit dumb. In my defence, I’ve been going through a lot lately.”

“He’s told you that he feels the same way, though?” Emma said. Newt nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, which is crazy. So you can, you know, not be worried that he’s stringing me along. Which he could be, but, I dunno, that’s not really his style I think.” He hadn’t even considered that idea until now, but it seemed too ridiculous for it to be worth much thought. Hermann wasn’t like that. Oblivious maybe, overly dutiful perhaps, but he wasn’t cruel. Never cruel.

“I’m glad to hear that it’s going well, then,” Emma said. Newt’s smile faltered.

“Or…not? I assumed, but is there something that’s not going well?” It was an open, easily rejected offer. Something slow that Newt could draw back from if he wanted to and he _did_ want to, but there was just so much worry in his chest already, the looming Council decision, the test results, all of the staring from the pilots and hiding his hand in Hermann’s when he wasn’t sure if Hermann wanted anyone to know. He just wanted one thing to be simple.

“I can’t have sex with Hermann,” he said.

Emma nodded, serious once more, letting the silence invite Newt to speak. He sighed, wringing his hands.

“I don’t know, at least not right now. I’m kind of worried it’s going to stay like that? We tried to, well, we were sort of making out and I escalated, which I probably shouldn’t have done since I don’t even know if-” he cut himself off. Hermann had wanted it too, he was sure, he’d told him. He hadn't forced it on him, not like she had - He refused to give himself anything more to dwell over. “I tried hard not to think about it, but the more I tried, the more she kept showing up. Pink elephants and all that.”

“She?” Newt nodded, feeling a little tremor run through him.

“Alice.” He flushed, embarrassed.

“It’s okay Newt, you can say anything you like in here. You won’t be judged.” Somehow that only made him feel more awkward.

“It was like as soon as we started getting into it, as soon as it, you know, started feeling good, I couldn’t get her out of my head. Like she was the one that was there and not…”

He twisted in his seat. He suddenly felt exposed, all too aware of his body. He was too bony, still, from not being fed enough under their hold, but finally starting to gain weight. _Getting fat_ , a cruel voice echoed in his thoughts. He flushed, folding his legs and then unfolding them. He’d never felt self-conscious, had always been proud of his legs and his stomach, the way his arms and chest gave space for tattoos. He found himself scooting his hips back in his chair, trying to hide, tucking himself back like he was guarding himself. Even talking about sex made him feel naked and exposed, humiliated, his breathing picking up into short, pained gasps.

“I feel really stupid talking about this, this is so dumb,” he spat, “I’ve done all this awful shit, I’ve _killed_ people and I’m complaining about not getting laid? It’s so humiliating.”

Emma leaned forward, clasping her hands together loosely. He’s noticed that she wasn’t married, no ring on her finger, but there was another woman beside her in the photo on her desk. He wanted to ask about that, suddenly, to avoid what she had to say next.

“A problem is still a problem, comparing it to other things doesn’t make it any less legitimate,” Emma said, “And if it’s an issue that we can fix, it’s good to bring it up.”

“I don’t know if I can fix it. It feels awful, I can’t even… you know, I can’t…” He couldn’t finish, gesturing lamely to his lap. Emma nodded.

“You haven’t really spoken about Alice in our sessions, but from what I gather, you Drifted on a regular basis?” Emma asked. Newt scoffed.

“I went home every night and got off on a Drift with her, if that’s what you mean.”

The venom in Newt’s voice surprised them both. The fiery blaze of self-loathing was so hot in his chest that tears sprang in his eyes. Emma stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

“Why did you do that?” she asked calmly.

“Because I’m an idiot,” Newt scowled.

“I don’t think that’s the reason Newt. Do you know why you really did that?

Newt sighed, squirming. He wanted to be out of this room, wanted to curl up with Hermann on the sofa and cry.

“Because everything else was so damn terrible all the time, I just wanted a second where it didn’t hurt,” he said quietly, “I was stupid and selfish. I didn’t want to feel so alone under the Precursors and I wanted to stop hurting for a bit, so I Drifted with her. And now I’ve ruined it all with Hermann because all I can think about is how gross I am and – and how scared I used to be. Sitting down every night in that chair, I didn’t even want it, I just needed it to get through the day without letting them take control completely, you know? I was frightened I’d never feel good about anything ever again.”

Emma had taken notes, he noticed. She kept eye contact with him, writing while he spoke.

“For starters, you haven’t ruined anything with Hermann. You two are still intimate, even if not sexually so, and you’re not weak for what you did to survive the Precursors. Nobody would blame you for that, least of all Hermann.”

“What if I’m broken? What if I can’t fix it?” Newt said.

“I don’t believe that Hermann would turn you away for not being sexually active. But even so, there are things you can try to start repairing your connection to your sexuality. What you experienced, being forced to engage in a pleasurable act that you did not consent to and, more importantly, being made to feel the way you do about it, is a valid reason for your body to reject pleasure. Your connection to the sensation is different, but I do think it’s possible to regrow a positive association with pleasurable experiences.”

There was something in him that rebelled at the idea of attempting it. Not only the terrifying thought of trying again with Hermann, but the guilt that came with it. He adored Hermann. Getting it on with Hermann had been on his mind for pretty much decades _._ And now? He couldn’t even imagine how Hermann would feel knowing that the very idea of sleeping with him made Newt feel nauseous. _It’s not you, it’s me,_ he imagined telling him, _my issues, not yours._ It sounded ridiculous. It made his stomach churn. And then there was the other guilt. The other voice that hissed at him, that told him he didn’t even _deserve_ to feel good. Not after Mako, after all the other pilots and innocents that died because of him. He deserved to be afraid.

“Just try it out, Newt,” Emma said, “Start small. You don't have to jump into sex to start rebuilding those feelings, you can use smaller examples. Soft furnishings, hugs, kisses, going outside in the sunshine if you can. Anything that brings you a pleasant sensation. And then you can build up from there; little steps at a time. It sounds small, and it will be slow, but I think it will help." 

Newt nodded, feeling cold inside. He imagined the guilty feeling of spoiling himself and wished that he still liked tattoos, still enjoyed having Kaiju writhing on his skin because at least then he could argue for the sting of a tattoo needle as something he liked. He twisted in his seat and nodded at the clipboard she had discarded.

"And you're gonna tell them I'm okay for leave?" he said.

"Yes. I think you're ready, if this is what you want."

"I don't know what I want." Emma nodded, her expression a little soft and sad.

"Then it might be what you need, Newt."

 _What you need._ Newt imagined the world. The noise. The millions of people, still alive, that may not have been if not for Hermann and a few brave Jaeger pilots.

"That's what I'm afraid of," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll update this post-holiday and keep updating for the last 3-ish chapters (I think that's how many I had left planned!) Sorry for my crazy long gap in posting and please, if you're still reading this, gimme a shout and let me know! :)


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